The Cleansing

While I was away,
Warring in the Congo, salvaging Liberia,
Ruptured in Darfur, I was contused at home. 

While I was away from home,
My children decimated my lands;
One claimed the river for his own,
Another held unto the canoe at the riverside;
Yet another contended for the fish in the river;
Even the shrine’s stand and fall they fought over. 

While I was away from home,
The lights went out, day like night,
Throwing up thieves in the market square. 

Now, I must return,
Wearing sackcloth and ashes ransack and sack
All greedy desecrators of my land. 

I, the Iroko of Africa,
Whose sons and daughters are great healers everywhere;
I, who teach the Whiteman his language,
And help knit the web to build their world wider,
Now I’m a laughing stock,
Called impotent for leaving my house unattended.

Now, I must return,
To ransack and sack all desecrators
Who pursue their interests in my name.


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