A Tributary In Servitude 16 Elegy for Union

after a long black night of doom at dooms-delight

hot unstoppable tears from ruptured eye sockets

hands hanging on necks, returning from war blood-soaked from the murder of brethren.

The battalion advances

weary now of where they went— tangible testaments of trade on broken forehead;

The march homeward is a harvest of woes borne by men who groan

silently,

for the healing balm which they lack at home

which

they have not found.

At the command headquarters martial music already

wails at the funeral of a dream

At the state chapel

the priest pronounces the wedlock of evil and evil

The groom drinks from the skull of the bard—

his friends shiver in their burrows;

all tongues curfewed for public safety.

The folly of the general is legendry for he mutters at every tea party:

it was a war well fought; this democracy, my brother

leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

II. Bring us the lugardian urn

that we may see from his tongue where our tears began

Acting on instructions— the empire's drive for the consolidation of vanities

He robed together all elements within reach, permitted the water-goddess to christen the child.

The child played round his dragons and by the time she was weaned
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she had been schooled to self-destruct.

Bring us Richard, bring us McPherson that we may feed the rage of their dragon-child!

Handing false majority to the slut tormenting the cluster of rebels coach of a side,

umpire in a national tournament

So they taught the new bride polyandry— how to erase the memory of her killers from the seas.

Eying jubilee and yet still crawling, bring us the official taboos, that we may read from its letters

more on how our sorrows began…

It is payback time,

we are thanking Lugard with a cup of vinegar

We will colour his eye with grief we will carve a green white green

totem and give guard to his wife, the devil

We will all pay tribute— including those of Bakassi

We will marry the widow on the throne to the god of thunder right in the presence of Ulli Bier!

Bring the kola, fetch the bitter kola

bring the schnapps and the drinking bowls; bring the taster, and the eldest man.

We are thanking Lugard with a cup of vinegar we are honouring apostles and icons of trade

We are thanking our naked gods

for hiring the mountain to crack a nut…

Chapter end