This hen I knew,
O, was she beautiful;
her colourful plumes bloom like flowery rainbows,
her succulent lips, juicy like sheri mango,
dark-chocolate cheeks, shapely with sharp angles.
Chai! It's sweeting me just thinking of her now.
This hen I knew,
O, was she peppery;
her flaming breath scorched my throat raw,
her fiery tongue boiled my rocky loins tender,
her burning hair snatched my breath away, bro.
She chokes. O, she chokes! She chokes like hot suya.
This hen I knew,
Boy, could she dance;
her hips swivelling, hypnotic and controlling,
waist-beads bouncing, magnetic and alluring,
body jiggling, inviting and scintillating.
Jeez and Jeebers! she controlled big men with that
hourglass-body.
But...
But that particular hen;
She is yet tired of this cock's crow,
O, what a devilishly sad reality, I know!
What can a scraggy cock like me do?
What?! Tell me, bro, tell me!
What can I do to enchant that quivering hen I knew?
The gluttonous reader resides in Lagos, Nigeria, where he wanders freely and writes tirelessly. He is currently working on his debut short film which is yet to be titled. An afro-futurism novel titled Obscura. And has over a dozen of short stories under his belt.
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