The Oligarchs

The Oligarchs

Do not be taken in by their egrets’ snowy wings
Or be inveigled by their phalanx format in flight,
Do not be enchanted by their long, landly legs stealthy
Amongst the sleeping golden grasses
Or be deceived by their yellow pelicaned mouths
Or spelled be by the curvy grace of their swanned necks…
Follow the spoors of their treads and you will find them at banquets
Dining with Devil himself, with lengthy silvery spoons
Scooping mouthfuls of maggots into their guts
Squirming maggots from the spread on their host’s table;
Follow their lead and you will see their
Angelic companies in the city’s midden
Seeking out friendlies, those living off the dumped, rotting dead
Squabbling amongst themselves over the hulk of a carcass
The humongous corpse of Chinua Achebe’s country.