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Poem

then we came
like others who visited before us
beside that palace
a host of songsters
competing like diplomats at lobby
for the ear of an idle king;

some came to sing
some came to ravish their eyes
on the beauty rusting with the years –
beside that palace
naked pages without number
came with the dawn
dangling till noon with spears
before their idle king;

and we thought
we have come home
sitting near the palace
as if we have come home!

then we saw
like those who visited ahead of us
slaves! slave-boys! slave-girls!
shiny tattoos on each face
bald heads, shackled arms, lowered brows
naked they came
before the idle king;

in disdain he put a monarch’s view
at the slave-boys from the south
are they without ancestors?
are they without land?
he peered at them like some curios
or those strange meteors
that shoot across the sky over niger;

and we thought
we have come home
singing to the monarch
as if we have come home!

then he struck
when we look we see nothing
not even the pages or the slaves
but ourselves before an idle king
we see only this hang-man monarch
his large-rimmed goggles
watching all the world
watching all of us
like those slave-boys from the south

and we thought
we have come home!

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