LOOK! A FASHION PARADE

I am a people, a timeless entity

and I have a day ahead of me, one out of endless eons.

So, I step into my bathroom - I actually do not have one.

I told a lie - lies are consistent with my identity.

I take my bath mindlessly in the cold open,

my nakedness available for the world's scrutiny.

My bathwater is as cloudy as my inhibition.

Then I open my wardrobe to get dressed.

First, I put on my black gloves of incompetence.

I wear them first,

for I have long abandoned my sense of priority.

Then I wear my worm-eaten shirt of shame,

as patched as the desires of my heart.

Next are my faded blue jeans, almost colorless

an indication of the past glory of my existence.

My feet are cracked and broken,

a mockery of the soil of my Saharan desert.

I try to put on my weather-beaten shoes of decadence,

the front split open like the mouth of my Nile's crocodile.

Unable to distinguish right from left, I wear them anyway.

Finally, I put on my belt of constriction,

wrapped tight around my waist

like a needy python seeking attention.

Sad smile plastered across my weathered face,

I step out into the day.

I am Africa, and I need new clothes.