Expediency Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

In a garden
of interwoven
flowering
bushes
and elephant
grass stems,

a chameleon
of all hue
slithers through
a fig tree,

spreading hands
to glue
to a sister green
marula parasol,
as it inches

through every
leafy branch
kissing and stroking
the ground,

grafted
into a heavily
clawed
stinkwood
flipping out

overgrown nails
from fingers
and a carpenter's
nails and pins
and drifting tacks

ebbing
off saw teeth
of cactus.

But he bawls out
to folks
it's just
a salamander

leading you
through
acacia
and trimmed
pine trees.

(ii)

In a tentacled
garden bush
of seafoam flowers,

let a snake
grow a worm's
tail, so the trim
demagogue

has honey
sinking into his
ears,
when folks cackle
like popping fire

and applaud
like thunderclaps
of gale-shut
doors and windows

amid popping
flames over coals
in a cold house.

Thrust into air
by elders clapping
at a young
man's glib tongue,

loud cheers
rising with spears
to break open
a sky with muck.

The roar and holler
crack
a graphite piece
of glassy sky,

its shards biting
crystals
spat out
by thunder-exploded
brittle air.

(iii)

Mr. Chameleon,
chew up
everybody
like bubble gum,

as you yell out
at folks,
drilling into them

a snake's pointed
head,
hammering it
into their eyes
as a tadpole's tail

and a wall flower
of creeping
animals,

a salamander
trailing
a wall gecko,

as more showers
of applause
soak you wet
to the bones,
Mr. Chameleon,

the house lizard
of a slithering
smile
crawling off

the chameleon
smooth face
of expediency

fleeing from
the burning glow
of stone-truth.

Call acacia claws
baby fingers.
Call venom juice
sinking through
a throat's
glossy flesh,

as you and only
you burn and glow
in rounds
of applause
rising like flames,

a trip
of expediency
failing to slam
on its brakes
to steer
octopus wheels.