The Stripper

The Stripper..... By Peter Onyancha Lately I have come to believe A poet is a stripper; that’s the naked truth Strips utterly and attacks your eyes You are the ogling private school mate No. No one should know what you know, you know! Private – every portico private Oh, it’s hard – Very hard to unveil When the poet is gone, you groan Imagine, you are left with fertile imagination Infantile wisdom and you are fried (This is the 1st stanza of a long poem entitled The Useleness of Poetry)