Eleven, Eleven
ELEVEN, ELEVEN I longed for this day, To fall into the amorous Arms of days gone by, to drift Into the halcyon days of youth To have another go at the past Eleven, eleven is here again But I am not provoked by songs of the wind That make me relive yesterday The children are not singing Eleven, eleven, Hamatam ‘Cause there’s no hamatam I’m looking around for people With coarse skins, but Theirs are more succulent than mine Now… I’m thinking of Marry-Knoll College Not in nostalgia But in wonderment Of where the wind has gone Of what is happening at The boundless gates of Marco, Burial ground, toilet, dam, field, father’s house and, Akpariku… the forbidden farce (c) Ochelebe T