A Perfect Singer Poem by Tony Adah

When Fela sang
Flakes of his country's rust
Fell to the ground;
He laughed and sang and laughed
His voice surfed upon the sea
Of his country's rots.

He pranced about
Telling the world how his putrid country smells
In his smoke and sex and nudity
He sang
And when he sang
His voice travelled far
He sang of international thieves and zombies
He sang in his country
And he sang in Berlin
No one took him serious
But when the gunpowder
In his songs started smothering
It was time they took him
And Abami Eda is gone