Eleven Pm Part Two
For once, man, be serious
This is liberty hall, you know
And all the fairies want a tumble
Even though that is mother-in-law…
You shouldn’t miscarry injustice!
Sure, fad, I apologize, really serious:
I’m quite un-particular you see
About who goes west (if only
to grow with the country
or swell with the money!)
But, please, friends, it’s 11p.m
And I have to venture
Against your will and wit
To more secretive apartments
To seduce mankind, eh friends?
You can have your love and scandal
(if you dare! If you dare!)
without the precincts of my home
damn it! Can’t you hear me!
I rage! I melt! I burn…
Can’t you be moved- rock of rages!
Well, what do you think of that?
A furious, curious, angered young son
Of a coolie, duplicating himself
By means of mirrors:
More like a muskox than a zerox!
Wouldn’t you clap and applaud
This woodland philosopher
And spin another party for him?
I would! I said I would!
Even though it revolts me
I would wine his wits out
Like that damned spot. Out!
In any case, gentle folk,
who wouldn’t want to get …eh
well acquainted with the past
as with …eh, with the present
not to mention the future..?
Not me, certainly, sir, not me!
I know my province well:
They call it knowledge
But I prefer ALL knowledge
To catalyze intellectual di-
I was about to say digestion, ha, ha, ha!
Just imagine- intellectual digestion, ho, ho!
Actually I meant digression:
Yes, intellectual digression…
Ho! Master of the first shows!
You must be a great crook
To ask to be furnished with arguments
And intellect as well!
But they would not leave
For as they argued
It was only 11pm
And the path was long, dark, dirty
And very dangerous, yes, dangerous…
Obviously, they were clean and brave men
But the foe was folly
And they had little wit.
So the chatter went on unabated
And historians became prophets in reverse
And everybody refused to follow them
To the year not of our Lord;
And I fell in love with my whereabouts
To enjoy the era! Welcome!
Lamb became dear to me
But even dearer was levity
Which seemed to transport me
From multiplication to addition
To subtraction and down to division
Of this strange disease of modernity…
Was it still 11pm?
Was it even Tuesday?
Well, you can bet it was 11am
Eleven A.M. Wednesday!
Also that we had drank too much
Of Mr. Time’s good wine.
So in our vexation, puzzlement and
Sober madness, we pressed the button
And they did the rest. That’s why
We are here, don’t you think?
Well, gentle folk, now you know
If you don’t know, I don’t blame you-
It’s too long since you had a nap!
Goodnight.
Copyright ©
Gerald Kithinji
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