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About This Poem
Strange Faces in this Crowded Bus
Who owns
These faces
I see in this
Crowded bus?
Our Lagos
Squires or slums?
Hopeful eyes
Squint as smews!
Scarfed
Capped
Bald
Bared
Heads flow
On mobile necks.
Yes!
Dry joy squats
Lifeless
On these faces
As elephant husks.
Arrayed in apparels
Shabby as pigs
Tho’ some gorgeous
Neat as eagles
These beings
Headed towards
Mile Two
O, Mile Two
Of all places!
But where exactly
Are we coming from?
And where exactly
Are we going to?
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