Home Poesy No, thank you.

No, thank you.


Critics wonder why
I do not drink
any alcoholic beverages.
They know not
that a decade
of guzzling Guinness
did not yield any greatness.

They cannot believe
I do not roll joints anymore.
They do not know
that a decade spent with
joints, cigars, and pipes
was never going
to get me better lungs.

They may never know
they are on a high-why
towards hell’s graveyard,
and that
it is better many a youngman
invest in themselves
than in several poisons.

They ask why
I never dress down
when the week is done,
and recommended a shave
because my beard
makes me despicable.
They will never know
that it is the only way
my skin feels comfortable.

They say that I am too reflective,
and have distanced myself
from the realities of life.
That I should feed on meals,
not sheets,
lest a show by my cheekbones
goes on.

On a backdrop of experience,
I can guarantee that
what one does, or doesn’t,
or how one looks
will never tell you
what they believe in,
what they love,
how they think,
or find happiness.

let it be known that
while you are (in he’ll), at it,
and furnishing me with questions,
it will forever be a simple;
“No, thank you.”
I am not (to be) intoxicated,
have never been happier,
do not place my faith in,
and cannot trust someone
who is well adjusted
to plastic, superabundant company.

Alexander Twinokweiga.
Ongata Rongai, Kajiado.
Friday, March 28, 2014.


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