Nice to Meet You, Bless...

... and where's your brother, Curse?

The Presidential Debate

A presidential debate

We watched with breath abate

By just before midnight

We’d found the leading light

We'd confirmed a certain two

Were just as we knew

As for the other bloke

Oh what an utter joke

A Reason Not To Shake Hands

Pretty woman in my rear view; in the spotless, silver Corolla; digging deeply in your nostrils; checking out what you produce. You're the reason I don't look back often enough. When the traffic moved along, it took you ten seconds to note; you were balling up your goo.

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Open Barbecue in the City of Accra

In broad daylight, last Friday, on the ceremonial street at animated Nima, Birdie and I saw a group of muscled men singeing a whole cow-carcass with a blow torch and scorching the pavement black.
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Vacuity!!!

2012! It bewilders me, and I cannot say which vexes me more – the superstitious teachers or the benighted varmint. The ones have zilch to teach because they need a lamp too. The others are a stupendously sorry sight: ignorant, petty, perishing, future-less.