The rising wave of 'cellcoholics' inspired me to write this poem, UFO
UFO
By Clive Davies
I found a flying saucer buried in the ground
I cleaned it up and changed the oil then flew it into town
I took it to my garage but they didn't know the make
So a bicycle repair shop checked the tyres and fixed the brakes
I went flying up the main street fascinated looking down
I almost hit the town hall in my frolicking around
People on the pavements, walking, focused on their phones
The masses and their millstones, I could almost hear their groans
The kids were on their phones too when I hovered at the school
But no one looked up to see me, so I headed for the zoo
The monkeys saw me, they all looked up, except for the kangaroo
Who came hopping over for a ride, along with a gnu
I scooted away from this animal fray, it was people I meant to impress
So I found a gathering of soccer fans at the stadium address
I hovered over their football match though all eyes were on the ball
I saw the goal and heard their cheers, but nobody saw me at all
In fact nobody was everywhere though nobody noticed my ride
Even a spaceship cannot whack it, fact is, people are pre-occupied
I wound up browned off and down in the dumps, even though I was up in the air
It's rather incredible, actually inedible, I didn't stand an evening prayer
I found it a dull place wherever I flew over house and street and town
Going up proved a come down, a totally turnabout run-around
Wearing a clown face I quickly about-faced and me and my saucer flew home
I chewed some choicy adjectives, parked in my backyard aerodrome
In a black mood I lowered it back in its hole and shovelled in soil with a sigh
I threw in some sods then threw a salute, feeling sad as I whispered goodbye
Later on, on my phone some one tweeted about a kangaroo and a gnu
That heaped problems on keepers by running around, amok and at large in the zoo
This delightful write clearly belongs in the humor category. I kept chuckling all the way through especially with the humans and their preoccupations that made it unable for them to see a flying object nearly right before their eyes. A wonderful allegory for our times.
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
Ron
budd