Ivan Musoke

To the power company. . .with venom

I write you a letter; scratch that, a poem,

I’ve tried every approach, but the words,
I guess are too big,

You simply don’t know ‘em.

So here’s another attempt, borne out of a cut wire,

The approach,

Different in every way entire.

 

It pisses me off no end, knowing I’m stuck with you,

Down right shitty is the reality,

The fact,

That neither I nor my countrymen

Have anything we can do…

Except hope….and dream,

And dream….

 

Dream a dream filled with animosity,

Bursting at the seam, with intent cold,

Filled to the brim with desires of the mold,

The mold of which I speak,

Is the kind from which I derive a kick,

Like when I watch a flick,

Where the sick demented prick

Meets his end,

His demise,

Gone, till Kingdom come.

Nobody cries… nobody tries.

 

That’s what I feel for you,

Hate.

Loathing.

Ire…

9 Comments

  1. mama, you think when Umeme doesn’t understand bugambo they’ll go a step higher in their IQ and decipher a poem? i think physical violence is necessary in some instances. peace.

  2. Like i said elsewhere
    Tumwi’s eyes disappeared from her blog, and they seem to be “on you”
    Ok, lame attempts at humour never worked with me!!
    LOL at Talib

Leave a Comment