Poem: Analytica, Analyse This

The weaver birds made their nest,
the land of Wakanda held them firmly in Africa’s soil
Kenya, a country of runners,
now runs across screens, papers, mouths
Corruption, poverty and fast internet reads like conjunctions
piecing together their web of lies

There was a time Cambridge dripped of cultured beings
We wear its reek of British colonization like perfume
spraying it on only on special occasions
like high teas, vintage car shows and coronations
Our founding father’s lineage
can be traced back to this land of shires and Windsors

This land has taught us the ABCs of Tribe, Color, Class
TCCs – terms, and conditions being constant
Like Facebook’s fine print data policy
trumping faces that booked their rights on a web
this bird sure can weave

Fuck your democracy
we sell it to the highest bidder
Our auction block,
the chains that bind you
in these virtual spaces you call reality