0kro Soup
Mortal and pestle contesting
Dogs wagging
Girls chi chatting
The moon moaning
The night i is as cold as hell
Sweat eavesdropping from Mother's nerves
We the parasite take our queue
The black pot roars
The aroma whispers
As the pot alighted from the furnace
A mountain stood on my nose
The struggle began
Mouths sweating
Okra swelling.
Copyright © Kingsley Awoh | Year Posted 2011
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