The Palmwine Drinkers Poem by Tony Adah

They always started by
Looking for an old axe
To which they gave a new haft
And hacked down a palm tree
No matter its height.

It was down wine they drank
From these felled trees
Always drinking and drunk
They wore filth but allowed
Their clothes clean
Which they didn't wear

The river flowed downstream
Lazily and they didn't care
To interrupt its way.
They grew spiky beards
And horse tail moustaches
That dipped into the drinking gourd
A brown discoloration swirled
From the snuff driven mucus
Trickling fom their bushy nostrils

They hunted rats
They hunted squirells
They hunted games
All with their two spittle drifting hounds

The dead palm trees
They felled long time ago
Gave them an assortment of mushrooms
They ate these and they ate the games always
Morning, afternoon, evening
They ate them and drank their palm wine

They came home at night
Slinging a small keg behind the back
A summary keg for the night
That douses the buzz of mosquitoes
In a thatch with crooked walls
They built themselves.

They came home at night
Singing, whistling and belching
They came home drunk
Waging a war against
Mosquitoes, mites and ticks
They came home drunk.