Countryside woman.
Awake you imbecile,
Move your pitch blackened soul!
Let those hockey sticks maneuver,
Let them thrust, mint chucks for next lodging.
My dowries remember!
I gave to your father’s clan.
Those were not for your snores!
Or for pollutants off your slim bum.
Huh! That is not how you pay me woman
In innuendo rags.
I awake dizzily strolling through the country side trenches.
Inhaling humane stench!
The dog next door pants at pallid wrists.
In dewed shrubs.
I am the African Child
Commercialized.
I don’t remember the sweet aromas!
I stink like humane wastes!
Scented with a poor man’s salad
This countryside!
Hustling is a delicacy!
Women trade is custom
Woman species are a curse.
Intellectualism is life’s survival
We the women of the countryside,
Our innards are well accustomed, making us disciples of the imbued world!
We jostle past country side men hurdled around pots of local brew.
Laying evil of who next shall suckle their pounding sticks.
please, let me understand the meaning of International Women’s Day?
