Palm Wine Poem by Precious Okidika

We all love the taste of palm wine
That perfect blend of sweet and sour,
That leaves within our mouths
The true nature of our world.
From late night
When tappers cut holes on palms
It drips down in tiny droplets
And by dawn fills our buckets.
We liked it sweet as children
When father at first light poured us some
Into his long horn from which we all drank.
But as men our taste differs.
Like father we like it brewed
The tastelessness of freshly brewed spirit
Distilled until every water is gone
That burns all the way to the anus.
Palm wine to us is everything.
It is the cement that seals marriages.
It is the ocean in which dead men are drowned
And the sea from which new-borns emerge.
It is the medium by which our elders pray
It is the drink for both men and gods
And the bribe we cannot refuse
Palm-wine is the table on which our meals are set.
Palm-wine is the soul of our clan.
It is our blessing and our curse.
It is the ocean in which we drown our fears
And the sea from which we draw our joy.