Wednesday, 30 March 2011

My Business is to Poke My Nose Around

[Image courtesy of google: imagetruckparts.com]



I make it my business
To know your business.

If you paint your house yellow,
Somehow I am entitled
To ask why your colours are loud
To silence our homes in some colour competition

When the aroma of fried beef
Wafts to the nostrils of my famished children
I wonder whatever happened to good neighbourliness

I hear your husband did not sire
That third son of yours:
His nose is as bulby as the Caretaker’s
Of course, I know these things
Heard them from the Househelp

I also know whether you slept on the right
Or left side of the bed
And exactly why you swallowed your
Sleeping pills yesternight
See, I should know these things

I don’t understand why you should be angry
When I ask you a simple question like
Who actually first proposed marriage to who
Because these things occupy my mind
And logically I should seek their answers

When I ask you where you bought that kitenge dress
And how many shillings it cost you
I expect a figure—fifteen thousand perhaps?—Not
Some whimpering of “mind your own business”
Of course you can tell it is my business

And do not give me that withering look
When I ask you whether there is a thing between
You and the gym instructor—
Some of these things I notice need intuition
They are not everyday wares sold in Muthurwa.

C) Lorot Salem 2011

3 comments:

Promising Poets Parking Lot said...

wow..
smiles...

love your discovery.

Promising Poets Parking Lot said...

invite you to join us today,
thanks for the attention..



hope to see you in.

Salem Lorot said...

@ Promising Poets Parking Lot, thank you so much. I am joining you in a moment.

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