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The Stripper
The Stripper..... By Peter Onyancha
Lately I have come to believe
A poet is a stripper; that’s the naked truth
Strips utterly and attacks your eyes
You are the ogling private school mate
No. No one should know what you know, you know!
Private – every portico private
Oh, it’s hard – Very hard to unveil
When the poet is gone, you groan
Imagine, you are left with fertile imagination
Infantile wisdom and you are fried
(This is the 1st stanza of a long poem entitled The Useleness of Poetry)
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