… where sa-tyres never go flat

Prize for Satire

Mr Martin and his son

Mr Martin and his son

By: Uzoechina Chisom Chigozie


Down the street, he lived

Before the pub and opposite the parish

The parish ne’er was attractive

The pub, did he love & cherish

He was a wife beater, Mr Martin

So perfectly did he throw the dice

He carried the bottle too, that’s certain

And knew every ill and every vice

Mr Martin was a good-for-nought

Mr Martin did love his bed

Even one penny, he had not

But now, Mr Martin is dead

Where he goes

And how he fares

Nobody knows

And nobody cares.


Now lives a merry boy, Mr Martin’s son,

such wantonhead,

who aimlessly trod from the break of day

till the chilling midnight air.

“Hullo, merry boy,

whence came you?”

“I came from his loins

who lolls about while men toiled.

I am such a one as he

and I do as I see.”

I am a graduate of Human Physiology from the University of Port Harcourt and currently a final year medical student at the University of Calabar. Some of my poems have been published in ‘PETALS AND PITFALLS: An Anthology of Poems by Medics’ available on amazon.com and okadabooks.com. I hail from Imo state, Nigeria. I enjoy reading, and writing poetry.

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The only thing you need to know about me is I speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ―― well, except when writing.

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Mrs. Cee
Mrs. Cee
3 years ago

Amazing, I love this piece.

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