(I am among the souls of teeming millions
Crushed by their inadhesion;
By blitzkriegs from these belligerent parties.)
My soul, in evanescence, waves to my daring body
Whose hope of ever beaming has been dumped in
The smelly dung on this raped land.
The earth does not heed the faint call of my hoe,
When even my hand cannot disseminate orders;
My penis, too, does not fill the mouth of my nagging wife.
My defiled bed, a cockroach finds and rallies me,
I’m down to wrestle him. But there, again, he brags
As I fall on my back, not him.