Uche Ogbuji


What do you know of my grey ears?

All I hear now is the cursed road

That brought on avaricious guns

To boneyard of my old abode.


What can you sense of my long trunk?

There was once my watered walk

Which now doles out the blanket stench

From garbage heap and vulture flock.


Where could you take my thickened legs?

My range shrunk to one quick wrong turn,

I'm one step from petrol spill

One other from a clear-cut burn.


What good in saving me my tusks?

The more-than-gold those clients crave

Bears out my home's new purulence.

What's left of me for you to save?

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