The music of your voice sets my feet to unknown dance patterns

The rhythm of your gait inspires poetic stamina in me

Now your sweet harmony is challenged by many new exotic harmonies

Drums and cans thrown asunder fill the arena which paraded you

Crowns and corks joy-leap amidst foamy vomits from greens and browns

Conveyor belts from rustic chambers throw hot menu on trays to the clouds

Your compelling song echoes

I bid you come egbo!

Your mouth surely delights in the bunch in my upper abdomen

Sip this delight; a bunch ripe and thick like the fresh first fruit

A mouth full is a precursor to a stomach full

Feel that which I like a gift release; the great antidote to hunger

My name is Elewa!

Nothing compares with my collection

Western, well wrapped

Continental, constructively canned

African, after affairs affirmed

I have mastered all in minstrelsy

I sing the newness of my night

Devoid of the orthodox florescent brightness

Borrow my owl’s eyes

Cultivate the multiple appetites of the Billy and the bitch

To my course meal

Come and my victual is victory over void state.

See what they did to you oh Mushin!

I cry blood at the lacerations on your bossom

You opened like a free way of our ancients

In warm cordial league they in pretence

Defiled and violated you

Who will band the blisters over you?

What balm will sooth the great pains

Pains screaming hard like the voice of many waters

From which Gilead do my people receive health

To survive their atrocious adventure

My tears of blood flow like the spring of Plateau

As I see your body defenseless battered

Oh your glossy abdomen is swollen

Swells inhabited by puss-rich ulcers

Delicately coated with a thin sheet of flesh

Large loads over burden you Mushin

Iron teeth of their mischievous adventures

Guinea pig with you in quest of nothing

And like the chicken of misfortune

Doomed for sacrifice you scamper in vain

Your hands contest the distant leopard in patches

With neither his strength nor his speed

Handshakes have eluded you forever

Friends are few and woes abound

MUST SHE EVER BE

See what they did to you

Visitors abhor you

With hands over their noses

But you scorn them For when a fart escapes from the anus

The nose must bear the horror

Forced to act our dear Mushin

You revenge in tired battles

For the aroma you spread is death to the decayed

And weakness to the wearied

Who weakly withhold breath with broken lungs

How colorful you are today

Jarring sights that seek to adore you

All is eternal brown in you

Dark brown light brown and grayish brown

White is desecrated and my proud black is swallowed

But how can you resist

Their cold fingers are on you

Their ravaging eyes explore you

Their brutal hands oppress you

Their icy breath dull you