I am a black cat, kept as a rat-catcher,
Supposed to eat small rats and mouse,
But of the giant rats I catch,I am robbed
By my duena and her dueno, they
Loot me off my blunder, they plunder,
Eating off my dear sweat like panjandrums,
Imagine I often get sick, but they give no care,
I sneeze andmew in the chilly darkness, having
Been curtly scolded for my fecal stuff on the old couch,
Most of them use me as voodoo stuff, secret arts,
They night run with me as their work device
For their outrageous venture in the wee of hour of the night,
They want to mew out sound of terror into the hearts
And black peace of the unlighted innocent sleepers,
Uff; I tell you; you are kaput to be a cat
In a place called rural Africa!
by Alexander Opicho