For This Famine, A Poem
For This Poem, A Famine
By Afua Serwah Osei-Bonsu
When I was little
I was a pony
I grew up to be a horse
I regretted my complaints
Like the infamy of the raped TV star
Who publicized and reduced her potential
The maraschino, no cotton wool
She sued and price tagged her pain
She shouted
And marked her soul
How much for rape?
How much for slavery?
Where does that Devil come from?
Maybe I should thank my Devil
As a muse
And accept my fate
And cry for nothing
For this famine, a poem
For this poem, a famine
He was so jealous
Not to walk in my shoes
He said even for this moment
They beat each other with bats for a stronger crest
He kicked until the shit fell out
He enslaved her 4 ½ decades and said I am the greatest producer
He staged their wedding several times
And people stashed the Vielchenblau napkins in their bags
That said a Chinese lamb, a blue rose in 14 karat gold
The festivities were gay until
Someone screamed from jealousy
Little Jinn walked out of the closet closing his zipper
The doors of imagination bridal chamber empty
The bride was left in a basement defrosting hamburger
To protest her German Chinese suitor
A voyeur, a squirrel, a cabron
She tipped her glass
In a wino’s voice she said
“I am marrying Little Jinn”