White Flying Lies
She speaks with her nose opened wide
Like that of Queen Elizabeth the none
From the fringe of the nose
She speaks very fluently
Chewing Queen’s language
With her head high up
She must have been an “Americana”
No! Briton, I mean
Chorused the mouth of many.
Yet she was not only born of here
She leaves all her life within
In the dusks . . . thick
Of a town called “Ibara”.
Indeed the other face of “Ibara”
We thought she was of the
Known family in “Ibara”
“Ibara” of the biggest shots
We were hoodwinked again
Its “Ibara” other side
With people of no side or size.
I became popeyed of it the news
That her Father a local referee
I wore it a gown of surprise
Of her fluency even in
Pidgin and Yoruba dictions.
Needing twenty two lies
To support one big heady fabrication.
Does she defeacate or fart ?
Too clean of a skin and look
Selling dubiously nothing but her casing
As many Adams pay for her pretence
Others swayed by her glibness
Skinned naked by her smile . . . comportment
Donate generously to her carcass
Of an empty moving coffin.
Too hollow to be real.
She can’t sleep in darkness
She can’t wash her clothes
Yet she is full of pretence
Too pompous to be genuine.
Enter the knockings of that day
That she will be strip naked
Of her white flying lies
All at the open market square.
Alayande Stephen. T
30th,July, 2006
12.25am
Ola’s very comical story of his
Female friend called Wunmi.
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