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MY POETRY HOME — trespassers welcome
(March, 2001) How you got me this mad is still a mystery:
twice or a dozen more times than that
I loved you before I even knew your name;
and at first I tried to play it down low
so that nobody would have to know.
But I guess it shows anyway,
especially when I just absent mindedly
mention your name while delivering
my freelance tutorial lectures.
Ah, what is love?
And what insane things would
a young man not do in the name of love?
There are many of such crazy things that
I do because of you, dear sweetheart,
though of them many you may not be aware:
Is it likely that you'd be calling at
my place tonight, for example?
Sure, most likely!
So off I go to my uncle's poultry yard
to steal a fat hen full of eggs and ora,
which I secretively pass on to Aboki,
who then ceremoniously prepares
a spicy suya out of it to await you.
There are many more insane things
I do yet: when you show up and
drink with me you would
hardly be gone when I'd run back to
your left-over wine in the cup,
desperately in search of the very kiss
you must've left behind in the cup
(rather than the wine).
Ah, what insanity this thing
called love can cause in a man's life!
And under my fluffy pillow is your
perfumed scarf which I superstitiously
spread over my face every night as
I lay down to sleep – perhaps this
insane ritual would enable me catch
sweet dreams of you before
you call again the next day...
© 2001, M-Auwal Gene III. All Rights Reserved
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