Kolapo Aluko

Fela

His saxophone blared from the speakers of my Father’s BM
With the drums bouncing against its slick-black exterior
No matter the destination, Fela Anikulapo was sure to invite himself
His third wheel stabilizing the turbulence of our journeys

Each cycle supplemented the soundtrack of our lives
As Fela led the way during our untelevised revolution
He left my Father and I cavorting to the rhythms of morality
And watched us become turgid from his stream of consciousness

Fela and my Father possessed congruous visions
Both composing similar hymns from the Gospel of Charisma
As Fela’s music and my Father’s words continued to trade center stage
Each man became instrumental to my ascent into manhood

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As the flames engulfed the atmosphere

And the smoke suppressed the airways

I remember the spark conceived from the friction

between the tip of my thumb and trigger

While I tan against the bed of combustion

And bathe in the jacuzzi of ashes

I embrace the insurrection around me

And wait for my chaos to simmer

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Kolapo Aluko

Kolapo Aluko

Data Analyst who uses poetry and short stories as an outlet.