Maneuver, Manage, Manipulate

You’re not the daring disciple

But walk on a frightened river fervidly

She doesn’t care if it’s a shuffle

All she needs is a long carol at winter yuletide


Manners, Manacles, Man-up

Tray your murky moods on

your head alone, on the aisle

sorry, the furrow in your heart is a minus

Take the amber for yourself, yes!


Manure, Mandate, Mandela

Grow savannah into the moist desert soils

crawling into fear to hide your happiness

The truth is never a drama; the maestro may not survive

but not until you’ve created the utopia


Do you know at all

what it means to be a man?

ask those burning feet that have trekked the boundaries of Sahara

when the sun decides to fry a cake

out of this moist earth.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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