Neba-Fuh
Ravaged reckless quisling- Captain of Roon,
Craved in carnal quest for cannabis,
Drowned by the exigent thirst for rum,
Full of faulty overload of French cuisine,
As Mademoiselles toy with your extortion key.
Flee not! Gentle silly sailors of Roon;
For Wouri's shallow shores prevent your sinking dive,
So, Grace can see from Fako's top that Roon lives on,
Clothed in sandy maroon like a beehive.
Arise silly sailors!
Awake, compatriots of Roon!
Why the wreck without a storm?
Of course, Mother Africa knows no ice blocks.
Surely, Captain Yabi hid the compass,
And here we are, sitting on our gray matters;
Doubting who lives in the opium joint-Captain Yabi or
us?
* The Poem 'Wrecked Roon' was written in 2002
Comments