This poem comes from a collection of poems and stories called “Why Are Animals”.
It ain’t very funny
for the Easter Bunny
when we hide his eggs in the garden
and in the yard an’
all over the house.
He’s not a mouse
that looks all around
eating whatever he found.
He likes to sit on his arse
eating dandelions and grass,
incubating his eggs
between his legs.
He’s a dumb rabbit
because it’s a funny habit
to hatch out chocolate
– that’s no way to populate.
This poem comes from a collection of poems and stories called “The Afroverse”.
The Serengeti Sonnet
In the arid, dusty plains of the Serengeti
grow the wild and straggly savannah spaghetti,
between which graze a myriad of gnus and gazelles
that browse at grass roots, sniffing becquerels.
Whilst cheaters and dandelions lurk in their prides
and ornithologists lie in weight in their hides
the mega-herds assemble in preparation
of moving home from nation to nation.
And the maasai morans that are no longer allowed
walk where the lion’s prides are no longer proud,
at the foot of the grumbling, volcanic craters
between natron salts and manyara gaters.
This is the Afrique of days gone bye,
lost wonders that make even crocodiles cry.