HE IS A BOY!

My father’s son attracts stares dawn to dusk,
he sits silently at the big screen till he shouts goal.
He talks not, he won’t dare scare even a thief.
He is just a boy!

He can’t erect a pot to its stones,
he’ll sit and gulp tonnes of gossip.
He can’t even split firewood all he knows is saying he will only live once.
He wishes a family yet he can’t even lure a girl to his Thingira.
He is just a boy!

Half worn pants, tight shirts metal on his teeth,
He says its swagg with a class.
In all he says he’s clever for life yet he knows no proverb nor the village ways.
He calls culture backward, says he can’t be shaken by illusional curses.
Yet he stagger at the village Muratina in gulps.
He is just a boy!

Daddy, son, hunk,
names they pamper him with.
I ask didn’t i see beards on him?
He calls names i can’t utter,does he know what he says?
He can’t offer an escort in the night he still says his muscles have shaken many.
Could he be the village coward?
He is just a boy!

My fathers son will just sit all day, noon his empty belly moans to be full.
He can’t be an elder, he can’t till land nor weaken the enemy.
He calls his muscles smart for they can only be immersed in books, the toys he holds forever.
He says its digital life reason he can’t even stand the smell of Wanjiru’s armpits!
He is just a boy!

Kelvin Mwangi.

Kenyan Poets Lounge

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