Sitting, the dreams on my nose,
lead the streams of my flow.
Incense, I follow the cue through auld langsyne
when boys were still naughty as kittens.
Tree branches, we jaunted to and swung
like excited mangoes in windstorm.
Hilltops, where only boy-warriors dared a climb,
every other reluctant boy was thought a girl.
There are ones who tasted their wee
first at five until their Science instructors called it
Some at ten,and some now, at fifty
–to each one, his age of unveiling.
Freewheeling, two little lads face a hole
testing their pee prowess in the sand.
Seething,Tunji suffered a riot
of internal dialogues,
knew what his uncle did
to other boys,
he shamed and fumed, ignored.
A girl hid, in her mother’s room
thrust a twig into that place
and tasted earwax for the first time, at six.
Blood? At Eleven, some didn’t.
they secretly stood before mirrors
and probed. Some? Never.
Jerks. No, not all were such
some had tasted mucus,
sucked in phlegm
counted ten while tasting tears
felt pain in vain
feigned unknowing, at adults
thus numb to ache of a certain hue
even unfeeling again to pain.
Lantana, that one had a thing of glum
doesn’t play with no one at twelve
doesn’t smile. Keeps face like Hades
she’d been denied the ability to experience pleasure
doesn’t cry tears, doesn’t moan….just sighs, silently.
Your soft palms feels woody
on her nape,all hopes of play fly
your “I love yous” are wasted,
too rusty for her to be aroused by your coo
There were no bad girls then,
only unlovable ones
they noed to everything
you yesed to. Distraught!
They are not to blame:
hurt men hurt men and women
hurt women too…
your honey and milk,
prayers and affection tastes same way
tastes as water in the memory of their tongues.
* Anhedonia: psychological condition causing an inability to experience pleasure.