POEM: Tableau (i)
Show me a sign
you have been
to the polling place…
the politician raises
his purple thumb;
and a machete with
a crimson edge
* * *
Ghosts voted here yesterday
and left their skeletal scrawls
they voted for the ruling party
and swelled its phantom figures
* * *
Babies toe-printed the ballot
kicking and screaming all the way
their parents laughed and laughed
as they forged their way to power
* * *
A hefty young lady,
protuberantly pregnant;
and when she went into labour
a roomful of ballot was born
* * *
My candidate
or no election
my tribe
or no country. . .
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