House of Coalition
THE HOUSE OF COALITION
Poet: Grace kama ni
Politics is a dirty game, indoor game played,
In partitioned social house -A house of coalition,
Baptized merger, alliance, or better still – handshake,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Political love plaque, adorned in wedding outfits,
From chiefs to the newborns, all matching for the clan,
Mattresses in the house see, under them piles of old clothes,
Perhaps for a rainy season,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Everything in a haze, every -body in a rush
The sewing machines take not a nap, brush paints and repaints the walls,
Singers’ voices softened with fine honey, type writers squeak in protests,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Listen to the manifesto, new wine in old wineskin,
Old enemies new dance, well-knit family new name,
And splendid rhetoric, soul search for voters,
Opposition in opposition,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Game win, selective win,
But the house of coalition a hoax? The title deed missing?
Powers of brokers at play? “Wanjiku “played again?
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Copyright © Grace Muigai | Year Posted 2022
|