COMMON FLATULENCE

Let us switch off our noses

To this common flatulence of guilt

That the world offers for our dirty G-string

We keep washing at the World Laundry Centre-

A place where souls are washed

For heaven’s corner chambers

Switch off our noses to the scent

Snaking from the chamber pot of

The International Crucifixion Chamber

For only tagged (mis)rulers of our part

Of a common world of a common stench.

Each day we pay tribute with our eyes

To the gold-shrouded tomb of justice

Offered our prodigal Lords at The Hague

But are we the only seeds whose mother-fruits

Emit stench from maggoty thrones?

Are we the cursed mis-directors

Of the fate of our lands?

Long ago a certain father & son sent

Storms across our heavens to a land beyond

Deep Mediterranean oils

Old Old Babylon

Was once the glory of that soil.

And our world switched off its voice

Over that common flatulence.

Yesterday of all days:

From the land of elephant tusks

Another prodigal path-leader was carried

Up near the stars, far away

For soul-washing.

When & how will his spirit transfigure?

& what do we do to the rest whole whore 

Of clanging common flatulence of the misrule of our souls?

12:08 am. 01/12/11 Legon.