March-ing Song
The year’s third month
Has marched in
Like a punctual pledge
Its air bristling with February’s fables
The year’s early rains
Have touched the roadside brow
With a timid lover’s kiss
The grass’s liquid song
Is brewing on the expectant lawn
Where, once upon a tale,
The dust’s brown carpet had risen and fallen
Like an empire unsure of its fright and flight
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Still heavy in the wind
Is the Expired General’s June 12 fabula
Pious hagiography of a dissembler
Whose acts undid a nation
His crowd was large, their pledges appalling
Billions of naira piled upon bigger billions
Tributes traded tall tales with tributes
In a shameless country, incapable of remembering
March on, dear New Month
April’s rains are just around the bend
A nation choked with fabulous filth
Sighs for breathless atonements