Ladies who know how to groove

Then we ended up at Chez Johnson,

Took two or three Jamson,

Wiith Jonathan,

The boy whose mouth relayed lugambo,

With Ssemambo,

Mambo bado!

There was Jamilah who shook her body,

Like this earth quake in Indonesia,

Men began to pocket,

Like the rooster,

Spoiled for choice… aishi!

 

We settled at Mama Kakyaala,

In Katanga,

Having gone to kukyaala,

With malala,

From Mbarara…

Some reggea mafin middle aged woman,

Wriggled her waist like a wasp,

Bonelessly evoking some roma-ntics,

Like a tick was about to stick to the cow,

We looked on cawordly,

Regretting why we could not afford,

To make her drunk for a one nignt prunk!

We tanked..

Till we thought one was two or three..:

We ended up at Bamuda,

And found Bakunda,

And some public cartoon,

Unleashing some rare strokes,

Girls, dancing while legs were apart,

Men, inter-locking, in- between, and besides,

Like bricks to morter,

Carelessly caressing,

Singing and singing endlesly..

Provoking, the ghosts in my head!

 

We loved, women who knew,

Above all, how to groove,

Like Kafiti,

The village Wag..