AYA WA (OUR WIFE) by Lanre AyoolaiAlade got a wife…His first meal was a peppery furnaceBurnt his tongue and bruised his lips…He ate with a strange joyMix of anguish, mix of hateMix of anger, mix of love…He chews on the sticks of doomHis Mrs. Fortune is a misfortune…His mother met himand SCREAMED!iiAlade is now a phantomHe is thinner than thinHis wife is a woman of noodles…A cook of surprises,Terrible in surprising cuisinesAlade wants a real mealLike the poetry dishesOf Adewale, the Poetry chef…Alade is hung in a suicidal hungerHis teeth dance to a deadly starvationiiiShe pursued the stars in dreamsIn the garment of black and white…She despised the little starsThat makes a woman for a man…A man’s heart is the stomach!She is the paradox in vogueA bad cook is enoughto spoil the broth…!Alade remembers AmudaAmuda, the charm and the cook…ivAlade is knownMaster of all refectories…Alade wanted AmudaOnly that she has no class…She…Mis-fortuneHas the class but not the pass…The pass to his heart…And today that the cleaner elopedWith her fears of food and poisonHis wife could not sweep! written by Lanre Ayoola