Friday, 3 August 2012

AGYA KWASI AND HIS GALLON

Dangling to and fro across a busy street
Like the large old bell at the Vatican
Agya Kwasi toys with life, his own life
The one he borrows daily from the grand architect of the universe hangs
loosely
to the half-filled gallon

Horns blare but Agya is lost 
His hips move to the rhythm and sound of dancing feet
A driver is in dilemma...
Hit!run!? - swerve!crash!?
Both will make headlines, he sticks with the first


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