Discourse

And I am now to be contented and go to sleep In your global village Am I to believe your village can raise my child Better than the old one Where mortars pestle corn And white cassava flour inthe sun Lays naked to the eye Looking at the flies with scorn. This global thing will hype the young Who chafes under the skin Complaining that Nana Accompong talks too much Who long to pull up roots And stare the devil in the eye Believing this nonsense that they are free To do anything While longing to be rich in misery. Think You that I do hear the cry Of the anomie Bleating in the cold Stripped like a soil Of family, values eroded, washout Disaster prone children Frightened, Narcotized on therapies Profiting from commercial lies That says it pays to advertise. I could not close my eyes While you are awake Dipping your bread in my soup After I washed your feet Because I had no choice My back growing trees that never fruit Bleeding where there was no root The incessant whipping of pain Slivers of light in silver glee. I will not sleep Without a firm boundary On which to dream.