Reverie In A Molue

Blithering gloom prevailed like days of coups. Location unknown,

Hand as capsizing plane, injects pocket stealthily. Sipped the phone,

Oh! Battery flat, twice beeped - Nokia warning,

But graciously leased its fluorescent. Then wondering,

Could this be oblivion? No; white skins call it elevator.

Ah! Now I see. Sunshine bullied and became victor,

Then lenses collided. It was the Lagos first man.

The same one, though shield-less. The S.A.N

“Hello sir,” said I as afterthought.

“It’s an honour stealing a glance in person”. Spine nervous,

With head movements, anti-pendulum as a penance.

Stare tweaked, “who are you?” said he; perchance

Could it be “how are you?”... My ears can’t fail me. I had thought.

Beep! The fault had been technical but now over.

Hush... then movements, downwards. And moreover,

I gripped the jiffy to ventilate concerns. “Sir, mind me asking

What the state government is or has been doing to unburden

The bog of unemployment on youths in the state?”

Beep!! Signal; floor two. Second to the last floor. Though at any rate,

For a reply I could wait. Throat double checked; response incoming:

“The issue of unemployment...” paused. Pupils roaming,

Body tenderly twirled as barber chair. “What is that?” Nose prying-

Vile stench. Grease like; mouldy. “Can’t really say”, retorted I.

And like a door slammed, a maddening smack from

The barbarous broom speaker- ragged conductor- with grimy red cent in hand.

“You no go leave the door?” said he severely. Then the fume;

So fierce, so pungent, so choking. A mechanic sighed;

Eclipsing all visions in obverse. Curiosity fed - why the hypo warm

Temperature and the fumes. “What is all this rubbish?”

Lips goaded. Mine. Oshodi! Oshodi!! Overshadowed. “Common sense

Not at all common,” whispered commuter nearby. Now in trance;

“How come... the Lagos first man...vanished... was it?”

Thoughts pleading attention. Then jolts from worn tyres

Osculating potholes to arrest another’s tootsies mechanically

Playing footsie with me. Snippy, sad truly!

Then I knew it was only a reverie. Unfair!

Privacy stripped by snow slide of binoculars, eyes blinking on me-

Mutely hissed I- in a molue.