Corn On The Cob

I come from the land of locusts.
Periodically, on rare occasions,
back when there was no concern
over climate changes

and the Sirocco blew over Casablanca
the skies turned somberly gloomy.
The feast after their landing was pan-fried.
Locusts with cumin spices. Cruncheeeeee!

In fact there is compensation
Nature has a way to substitute a simile
For an allegory or the real thing.
We just have to learn to swallow it.

OK, you wait for an intelligent comment
& the one thing I remark
about the locust aftermath is that there's
no corn in sight any longer.

Don't take this too close
to the kernel of your cob!

Much chuckling... maize! Mas maize!

by Alexandre Nodopaka

Comments (7)

One of my favorite poems.
this is rehashed Horace.
This poem is going to haunt me... there are some countries that seem to breed such melancholy thoughts, their folklore looking back to heroes long time gone but not forgotten under the soil of their homeland., Incredible piece of writing.
Seems to be knocking! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
The view of his homeland in this poem makes me think it signals why he left and eventually came to live in California. -GK
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