First published on Festival of Poetry.
But he is from the West, and I
Hail proudly from the East.
He’ll gladly lunch on sandwiches,
But I’d have rice at least.
He’s always hot, I’m always cold
‘Cause nature made us so
He likes the sun, I like the shade,
Yet where I go he’ll go.
Shoes don’t belong inside my house
They stay just by the door
His shoes barge in through all the rooms
And live on every floor.
My elders would have cast me off
If they’d been here to see
Me go inside a room with him
Unchaperoned, for tea.
The women cook where I come from
As was the grand design,
He does the cooking all the time
And yet the world is fine.
But he is from the West, and I
Hail proudly from the East.
I sometimes lunch on sandwiches
And he’ll have rice at least.