there is a madness to rage by amu nnadi

there is a madness to rage

[text (c) amu nnadi]

there is a madness to rage, a kettle says
upon a flame, its heart boiling like water
which cannot be contained, that is why
clouds are formed from smoke, why it
fills up with water kettles let go with rage
and in them, the rage of all who become
thunder on the streets on a sad country

it falls down again today, water which will
become flood, cleaning out the corridors
of power filled as the gutters with stench
of leaders whose heads are emptied as
beer cans, whose heads are rotten fruits
whose minds are leftovers by maggots
of greed, whose fingers are broomsticks

it falls down, this rain which long echoed
in heads slowly growing dark like clouds
with remembered cruelties, of uniformed
animals who grew horns riding our back
and becomes the tumult of marchers
flowing as flood down the battered roads
of lagos, abuja, port harcourt, benin, jos

and all the places where the young grew
too old too fast, to prise out of the hands
of the old who wear diapers of disregard
of country and promise, the only patch
of earth still uneaten by ravenous mouths
for what kettle is left burning unattended
will spill, with rage and scald all who slept

through the fire, through the flood, upon
all the roads where the oilbean has let go
a cry, filled with madness, filled with rage
and all animals hear the forest thunder;
some birds will fly away, some goats will
stiffen into silence, some reptiles will hide
in holes, for rage rallies through the veins