I Speak of the Bush..!

When my friend sees me
he swells and pants like a frog
because I talk the wisdom of the bush
He says we from the bush
don't understand civilized ways
for we tell our women
to keep the hem of their dresses
below the knee
we from the bush, my friend insists,
do not know how to 'enjoy':
when we come to the civilized city,
like nuns we stay away from the nightclubs
where women belong to no man
and men belong to no women
and these civilized people
quarrel and fight like hungry lions

But my friend, why do men
with crippled legs, lifeless eyes,
wooden legs, empty stomachs
wander about the streets
of the civilized world...?...

Teach me, my friend, the trick,
so that my eyes may not
see those whose houses have no walls
but emptiness all around;
show me the wax you use
to seal your ear
to stop hearing the cry of the hungry

Teach me the new wisdom
which tells men
to talk about money and not love
when they meet women;

Tell your God to convert
me to the faith of the indifferent
the faith of those
who will never listen until
they are shaken with blows

I speak of the bush:
you speak for the civilized-
will you hear me...?