SELLING, SHAKING, WRITHING

Am a vendor and am selling
my stupidity to the world
am showing my morbid mind
to the world as I've known it
why not?
it's been cruel to me!
it's suppressed,
     oppressed,
     frustrated,
     mutilated, even
     dismembered me
it has forgotten to remember me
I just had to remind it I also exist
am a street vendor
don't tell me about equality
in gender, law, policy, whatever!

Am a free being and I shake
my booty till it resonates
till it makes sound like clanging cymbals
If you strip me naked
you're stripping naked your mama
I've given birth myself you pica-ninny!
Let me walk freely on the streets
let me swing my hips
let me paint my lips
am just expressing myself
if am destroying myself, then let it be!

Am an orphan and am writhing,
crying within
my soul was stabbed
right on the day I was conceived
I have no food to eat
nor place to sleep
into rich homes
I only peep
I pray to the Lord my soul to keep!

Am just a writer holding the pen,
and the pain, too
you also neglect me, it's true,
but Mr Chicken farmer
listen to the voices
your labourers are crying
they are selling,
             shaking,
             writhing
while you enjoy the rhythm!