DR GABASS

DR GABASS
My son,
Dr Gabass is not decaying
In an overcrowded prison
He is flourishing like
A mushroom on a damp anthill

Maybe his shadow
Crawls on the Face of book
But he walks with silent steps
Behind your window

He wears no lab coat
Neither a stethoscope
He wears his flesh over his attire
Carrying on his shoulder
The nodding log in his pants

The pupils in his chameleon eyes
Swallow not only
Beautiful rays from sons
But also from wives and daughters
And husbands-

He is that man
Who hides the colour of  his heart
From the sun and the moon
To build his shrine
In the hearts of people

You bow to his grey hair
His magnetic steps draw you to dreams
Dreams of certs and pockets
He shares your totem-
A friend

Wear your eyes without their lids
Dr Gabass is still here with us

©Sarpong Kumankoma