To My Uncle Tarkwa Atta – A Tribute (2)

By Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr.

You surrounded yourself

with bloodhounds,

and so you woke up

with fleas;

yes,

you surrounded yourself

with flies of

human waste

who kept

weaving lies

upon lies

about the failing state

of your health,

who unconscionably

rode you

like a mule

to your premature

grave…

and now,

the Shit-Bombers

have mounted

your saddle

with a crocodile’s

lament,

claiming to be

the new messengers

of truths

they have never known

or told;

these congenital liars

who callously

hid the truth

from the nation

at large,

these congenital liars

who callously sucked

your ebbing strength

till you sagged

and went limp

like a

deflated

balloon,

these congenital liars

who know no shame

and have no qualms,

they have mounted

your saddle

claiming to be

the new prophets

who shall ferry us

to the promised land

of Judgment Debts and

coldly calculated

commissions

for patriotic thugs…

and yes,

Uncle Ebo,

you said it all

and said it best:

even those who

carpenter-sewed

those loose-hanging

color-running

school uniforms

for our kids

shamelessly claim

our humanity

is the article

of their faith –

and on the right-hand

of Lucifer sits

that gray

and fast-aging

thug who tightened

SAP’s

strait-jacket

around

our broken necks

and kwashiorkorized

bellies and fled

to the bounteous land

of Fifty-Stars

at the height

of our season

of drought…

and you,

my good, old

Uncle Tarkwa-Atta,

so scandalously naïve

were you that

you cheerfully took

the barbed and

poisoned-tipped bait

of Jato-Patapaa

and ended up

fried

like a crab

on Labadi

Beach –

and the land

is generously awash

in human waste,

for the Shit-Bombers

are back again

in the seat

of our sinking

and stinking

ship

of state…

7/25/12