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.