A Matter Poem by Joshua Adeyemi

Summon here a meeting,
Of spoons, forks and plates.
Let it hold within the city,
Neither beneath nor beyond the desert's gate.
Here is the drag my worms did tape;
'Deprive was us by our rights,
To us they wroth hate agape.
And scorn us with dearth and frights.'
To truth is that all?
Or by forgeries should it be call?
Speak swift with me and lend your trust.
Else, sentence will thou all to the cell of rust.
'Please, peace, ho! , it's far from our fault,
'Twas by the chef's law we were halt'.
C.2017