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Off to Kaduna my mind flies, Off to Zaria my soul first alighted, Gently ! Gently !! Gently !!! Echoes the man behind the wheel. He trudges on day-dreaming Concerned not about our hues over cries His pace was like that of a snoring bush pig. We yawned , jawed but move up Our faces full of displeasure The Lagos lady banker took him up As Alhaja and Alfas added flavour Can he ever gear up even without bump? Nothing changes his old leopard nature I tried spice it up when I woke up But to the face of him I met no favour As he shrug off, and belt up He returned to his snail-crawling seizure. At the abysmal of his mind He must be feigning fulfillment Cat-walking at a speedometer of a tortoise Fast like an archaic “Loko” train. To the driver whose forehead reads . . . And whose lips echoes endlessly “Its better to be late than to be a late” For a Life is duplicated not Nothing is as sweet as cat walking Snail-pacing in all sojourns. Alayande Stephen. T 1.10am 21st ,July, 2006. En-route my way to an NCP meeting in Kaduna, the luxurious Marcopolo boarded Merely cat walked all thorough.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

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