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The Toady and the Dodderer
every day he plays some hackneyed
music of honey
and heaven
on earth
on this dear African continent
on this stage of penury(he hardly says!)
reeling
and whimpering
under the antics and venom of an
incorrigible doddery circus prodigy
he plays a note of subservience
the dodderer
dances at full stretch
on the floor of glamour and opulence
the toady exalts and extols
rendering himself soulless
and worthless
in the ravenous eyes of the lot
stuck in a tailless food cavalcade
they have had their fill of his
sycophantic musical performances
they would rather listen to the squeamish
rumblings of their squashed stomachs
what he calls music is out of place
it cannot grow on the their conscience
the toady is stodgy in the glare of truism
his cunning voice has paled on the stoical
souls with sublime indifference
what consummate skill and scheming
and stature can squash the unflinching
glare of hunger and danger and anger?
he plays his music that has degenerated
into noise
and nausea
the exalted dodderer exhibits
a wiggling affectation
and fixation with hogging
the entire dance floor for himself
arousing a great deal of ire and uproar
drunk with soaking it out to infinity
the dodderer has inaugurated
the dance floor into a no-go area
in a very subtle fashion
the toady eggs him on
the cause celebre being-
his outdoing of other dancers
by hook and crook
he was destined to dance ad
infinitum
or so claims the praise-singing pawn!
everyone from all strata of society
sees the damage and decay
on the dance floor
there is a timepiece on the wall
but the singing maestro
papers over the cracks of brutality
he marvels at such amazing strength
the tottering dance icon wields
the other dancers are visibly dispersing
in a disconcerted vein
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