We replace the crow of the cock with blips and binary bits
As the songs of birds are buried in the braying of birdies
The mast of nature is misted by the fog of pollution
As sunlight is supplanted by the halogen and night confused with noon
Filtering the flames of family fires into frayed fringes
The pride of ancestral labor is reined by the arrogance of the blue collar
And matrimony moves out for the move-in moments of madness
As cherished values are dragged into the gutter of moral penury
And as we storm through a million pages for a piece of parchment;
Mean medallion for many midnights murdered
We learn to speak through our noses and sing without open mouths
As we train our souls to grow cold at the sight of childhood friends
And berate the beggar before he begs for a bite
As we learn to wear clothes that leave us shivering or sweating
And confine cultivated cultures to the cellars of a continuum
We must realize that the Sun will never from the West rise
And rains can only from the sky fall
Imbibed identities will never dance to the tunes of inbred rhythms
As the routine of heritage heralds the frenzied dance of campfires
Just as the African soul can only be African
« return.