Our Cyrano: Nou Pa Egare

Our Pinocchio Our Abbott & Costello Our Peter Pan Our Tintin Nou Pa Egare We cannot be swayed Our immature actor Of bad nature Nou pa egare We have lost our way We can find many words, countless ways Especially adjectives to explain His B.S., stupidities, and naïveté Now, dear readers, his skin Is now in jail. Our Machiavellian Our parvenu, our big mouth is on the list Of the accused. We laugh, we joke, and we wee wee And we cry like marmosets One wonders: where are the jewels Luxurious cars, expensive gifts, and toys Little Christmas Shoes And summer tuxedos? Oh my God How ignorant to be in the dens of the lions Leopards and tigers! This dumb cretin This bon vivant, of thirty-eight years of age Is toxic and viral. He is sick, wicked, a menace To himself and to our society. A narcissist Is someone who has a mental deficiency He will commit suicide just to be on the pedestal He is always present as a small fascist, as a fake marshal Who wants to lead. Flatterer and bragger par excellence Oh, my golly! By miracle or by inadvertence He is at the center of affairs, in the middle of things Now, in the labyrinth of the roses Nou pa egare What a pleonasm! What a dichotomy! Psychiatrists lament in the face of such madness They ignore the fact that a few "madmen' are scattered In the streets; they are everywhere in our society Nou pa egare This is really the opposite of reality The fire is real, the drugs are real The jewels are real, the cars are beautiful And the handcuffs and shackles are also real Many inks are cast and shed To explain the harmful and naive behavior Of more than a dozen who are on the reefs Of the jailhouse. The public is waiting, expecting Justice will take all its darn time To find live proofs and dead evidence Before pronouncing verdicts and sentences This is how the big boys, the big countries do things The public is in suspense. Bring the shrimps The caviar, the roses, the bottles of champagne For the prisoners who're locked up in the dungeons Our Cyrano, our idiot Our bouki, our Pinocchio All are locked up like little puppies No more comedy, no more funnies One does not play with life The jokes are no longer funny The dummies are breathing silently We are lost We are lost We are all fools: nou pa egare We are idiots: nou pa egare. P.S. This is a twisted story that many Haitians and others know about. If you want to know more, please Google: "Nou pa egare". This is happening now. Copyright © October 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.