When a kid tells a lie
We are quick to spot it with a spank
But the fartings of our elders are coloured lavender
When a maiden giggles at a stranger at a stream
Community tags her as becoming unseemly
But the men stoke their loins in broad day sensation
When a king breaks the air in court
We search ourselves with questionings
Our senses must be contrived with carnal expectations
But the king is equally carnal too
As it is with a slave on the windmill
So is it with the blueblood on the treadmill
A finger in the anus can only reek of a foul smell
***A commentary about the recent comment made by Chinua Achebe on the Biafran war***
Fingerprints 
Charles, this is a powerful one, in language and content. You are peeved, my friend and I am writing this after going to read your piece on Achebe. 🙂
Well, such is it…decided to push a dose of politics into poetry. Hope it came out well?! Thanks for being here despite of your schedules!
Always at your service. 🙂