Please refer to my post @ https://ifeelshadows.wordpress.com/2012/07/16/my-idyllic-village-experience/ for a background to the story.
The city was becoming crowded
With the less-hairy members of my species.
They laugh at my afro;
I mourn for their baldness.
At least they have carved out a new niche.
I shall call them humans.
Now, I hope none comes back
To interrupt my solitary forest meditation;
Begging for some hair-growth formula
When they can’t keep warm by being “on heat”;
And are desperate for some meaning,
Which is to be found only in monkey soup.
It is midnight again-
My period of peak activity;
Ears stretched taut, hairs standing alert,
Nostrils flared, lips set,
Eyes unblinking, fingers feverishly working.
The mad village poet goes to sleep on his laid egg;
Hoping it would hatch by morning into the mad city poet!
Couples hanging out on Friday night,
A transaction that comes with a “minimum wage” agreement.
Pity if either one is an economist;
Then the other will be a charitable social worker!
- The Mad Village Poet -9 (Original) (ifeelshadows.wordpress.com)
- Explained -The Mad Village Poet 7 (ifeelshadows.wordpress.com)
- The Mad Village Poet -8 (Original) (ifeelshadows.wordpress.com)
- The Mad Village Poet -10 (Original) (ifeelshadows.wordpress.com)
- Explained -The Mad Village Poet -5 (ifeelshadows.wordpress.com)
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