A man my tribe once took the seat.
It felt like our whole tribe had won.
We celebrated ‘your’ defeat
as if we both were never one.
My joy soon died as life returned;
my month-ends came, my landlord same
my cheque as thin, painfully earned;
while years they played the dirty game.
You cried as hard as I when costs
of life absurd appeared on shelves;
They didn’t choose between our throats
when profit drove their selfish selves.
I called you ‘neighbour’, thought you near,
ashamed at how they made us fight;
the milk and honey promised clear
was trickling to us never quite.
But now is not time to reason;
-such luxuries I can’t entreat
when there’s at stake an election.
A man my tribe must take the seat.