Touch By a Dirty Beggar
To the bacteriologist screaming ‘caution’
And virologists sure that my life is up for auction,
A touch by a dirty beggar I should only fend off,
Not flee from;
His pestering fingers, tell ‘Enough’
Not slap like a drum…
Disengage as they are being fastened on my jacket,
Not attack with a racket…
For them shed tears as they accumulate dirt,
Not cartoon the ones that have discolored my shirt:
Any clothing of mine brushed against them
To keep bearing, unchanged, its name
And washed at an unpanicking moment:
The exact time I do and laundry wouldn’t be a torment
Copyright © Chinedum Ekwobi | Year Posted 2021
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