Telephone Conversation By Wole Soyinka from Nigeria

     The price seemed reasonable, location
     Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
     Off premises. Nothing remained
     But self-confession. "Madam" , I warned,
5   "I hate a wasted journey - I am African."
     Silence. Silenced transmission of pressurized good-

          breeding. Voice, when it came,
     Lipstick coated, long gold-rolled
     Cigarette-holder piped. Caught I was, foully.
10 "HOW DARK?"...I had not misheard...."ARE YOU LIGHT    

          OR VERY DARK?" Button B. Button A. Stench
     Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
     Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered
     Omnibus squelching tar.
     It was real! Shamed
15 By ill-mannered silence, surrender
     Pushed dumbfoundment to beg simplification.
     Considerate she was, varying the emphasis-
     "ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT" Revelation came
          "You mean- like plain or milk chocolate?"

20 Her accent was clinical, crushing in its light
     Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted
     I chose. "West African sepia"_ and as afterthought.
     "Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
     Flight of fancy, till truthfulness chaged her accent

25 Hard on the mouthpiece "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding      

     "DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."
     "THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?"
     "Not altogether.
     Facially, I am brunette, but madam you should see the

          rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet.
30 Are a peroxide blonde. Friction, caused-
     Foolishly madam- by sitting down, has turned
     My bottom raven black- One moment madam! - sensing
     Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
     About my ears- "Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
35 See for yourself?"