But maybe all he needs is a good night’s sleep after which everything will be dawn-rosy^ if only i could convince myself that’s true – i have enough money – oh no i forget – though it’s still a popular trope you can’t take it with you – its promise and investments and dividends have clung to and followed me here where nothing can be bought hoarded or sold except the mind buying into and hanging onto and selling itself more of the same assumptions of finality and safety that are sewn into money’s risky fictions^ you don’t know the half of it! the scribbler says.
(from Limboa, a sentimental anthem by Brian Chan . 2023)
Hard to tell whose dwelling God has entered – that man with woman trying there, her pooja marigold charge full pending.
His stomach smile face beefy . praise the carrot^ stick at bedtime taken orally | shaking the mouse only wakes up the system. ………………..
Fingers for the chain necklace clasp later reach for the speculum to scrub salve test bruised walls | the knife to end that kitchen^ bitch ! her ark^angel humping.
His lizard tongue flicks Not goin’ happen again? her furrowed flesh done! twistin’ on that grille. ……………
Field routers know what’s best for others heat air bubbles blow | bless the power^feeding missile, gut blood brick prayer mixing.
Virtue now like placenta buried to ward off Admin swoop peckery. …………….
Our land planners need few readers; books pass chapters back to trees | up ‘n’ over cane canal launch towers start . Is what going on?
Freda hadn’t yet told Judd of her ripe trysts (She was proud that she could speak such old-book words) With a girl-cousin who was also forward (If only as far down as their treasure-troves). But, rising with Judd to peaks of their one wave, She realized how its extending power Proved all her cousin’s stoking of their wire-fire Was just a fiddling giggly gasping nothing Beside the wave’s demanding and allowing Conductor of the artless craft of knowing Herself through this comrade, her man, her fellow.
To brace, enduring like our great grandparents is no saved feat; their arms reaching out (for sunrise no paint brush) folded the recreation of yard life^ stock + cicada all nighters.
Breast or leg preference came later; how long, they wondered + the labour how much it took to raise those UK castle stones . lay pay OK?
……………………….
The seawall blocked us from the shower stall . its head serve firmer than hands ‘n’ bucket, birds ‘n’ bush. Another reason streamers fancied Independence so.
Until you learn to find ‘n’ bless the heart flesh pounder respect its mystery | chest bare you not supposed to wheel ‘n’ seek. Ah, now you see . so we lick tempers stay.
…………………
New habitats keep rising, sans roof galvanize; calls close on high ways for dark horses. Fastest growing egg plants this side of earth warming scrap shells heap.
Still the game for pump ‘n’ rigs the ocean belly blues confirm . only sky divers know where our dorados lay deep waiting. Ah, now you see . on coast watch we there ovulating.
W.W.
[ Etienne Charles – Rose ]
YUH RAP SO (6.2)
In The Bush that didn’t give a shite how slight Or high its tenants + tourists rated its Seasonless simplicity rapt + apart From people’s perverse pride in the harsh hairshirts Of straining ambition + competition & measuring towards any fruition In the hothouse + circus of artifice Whose noise was nada beside the silent voice Of the stolid trees ignorant of all names:
– how bloody creepily mere clearings become paths, thought Thomasson about to break his pause & keep walking forward over gold-shadows
The more i feel my body – such as it is – No – was – now just a memory of its form- rising though it knows it should be lying still never again to wake to mask as a clown of seriousness with its smile of despair^ don’t i know how the ego in its coffin of suffocation self-afflicted – all death a variety of suicide – suffers for its soul having abandoned its body to its dark complacent self-indulgent rot^ what an ass that bland brayer on a sea-wall letting the waves fool him he’s roaming the world
(from “Limboa” . a sentimental anthem by Brian Chan, 2023)
“Perhaps every man knows he is being dreamt into existence by others….” – Wilson Harris, Companions of the Day And Night (1975)
Crowd builders press play skittery scales on our island not known for standard high beams | pet owners bark at projects scowling at the gate. Stray logs do not fit right here!
Every now‘n’again you notice heart bruise frozen on long faces | all the wretched stacking up the earth you’d think by now we’d learn to slide nesting irons gently in.
…………..
Showing up off shore Orinoquos disturb our coin bite balance . pirate^like mean mixing business with low fat custard apples.
Diaper changers @Home affairs report plantation^trace in our joint stool | the ocean bed surfs up tokens > pocket knives dislikes like from some sunken^ship century.
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Course narrow ? Should I stay . the marathon swimmer heaves, right^left neck in swivel. Running out of strokes his lungs go Ho ho ho for a horse with wings!
Call the number on your screen . hold please, thanks for submitting | launch time? bulbous^bow strapped on purpose stern apps boiling up you cannot fuck this.
W.W.
[ Colonial Hat Band . Georgetown, Guyana ]
YUH RAP SO (6.1)
Later, Judd would ask Dilys if she’d believed She could get away with that sort of fancy Even twee metaphysical turn of phrase In producting an academic treatise: He was into Communication as form: Just the facts ma’am: hadn’t super-modern Wim Wenders said America has colonized Our consciousness (a fact we’d better get used to)? So what you see is what you get was what Ladd Was colonized by: it made things easy and Rhymed with his fascination over Choisisme’s Sharp cutaway from dull Catholicism
“Who will unlock must first himself be locked. Who will be locked must first himself unlock.” – Martin Carter, Words (1957)
Told to cross only where the globe is thick islanders tiptoe, testing . crack ‘n’ sink | hot night ‘n’ day . is hard to follow ice chip^ melting signs.
If memory serves influencers surface back up every 100+ years, gathering : Confucius Garvey Bonaparte | 2nd comings profile We^them pronouns ? seriously cap lock^ licks of belief. ……………………….
Hoping to live in peace ‘n’ praxis with the world island wombs choose vaginal home birth, gifting the foetus family^first toes; high chair^fed for life.
Where how when to crash land flow calls for ocean tracts only souls risk^ ready or not on foreshore swells rehearse. …………………….
At the Ogun Whagwan? bypass Ta Ta Bipti feels the pan yard . stokers eyeing up set on fire her Mandir mate holdings. She have she ways but you know!
Stepping outside 4^past midnight Put some trousers on, man ! you never know some warner woman clutching a bamboo crucifix U turns for you Aie aie aie!
W.W.
[ Colonial Mating Rules . Georgetown, Guyana ]
YUH RAP SO (6.0)
Thomasson’s pregnant doubt was aborted by The shouts of two small boys playing with pebbles On a patch of dust surrounded by stubble: – Aye, pink Fada! Yo, schooteacha sah! The priest Was in no mood for their enthusiastic Mocking of his passing otherness, so kicked A dried owara-seed in their direction (So much for mingling with the ffflock). If only His nightmarish daydreams were visionary, He might become that colonist who believes He’s doing the best for conquist-adored lives.
Your Bartleby who should prefer not to climb any more stairs – having seen and tried and failed to climb any – all of us more air than stone – as trees which monkeys climb are more air than earth^ and when those monkeys climb they climb only half- way up a tree – knowing its highest limbs can’t bear their weight the way they bear all of Heaven’s^ and to tell of Heaven – it is not concerned with anything but your presence at its door – your reaching there is proof of its presence and of your choices and chances all the one made and taken for granted by all simians^
(from “Limboa”, a sentimental anthem by Brian Chan, 2023)
“For wheresover the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together.” – Matthew 24 . 28 11/02/2025
Progress in core building runs the same slip^ fall tests – for spasms, role strain, period leaks; fault found, before you stick a label first scrape off our given names.
Who doesn’t love a wake ? service food free gossip rum | grave^floral blouse ‘n’ shirts bring us close to Gone! in tension; let down bearers sifting memories.
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Poulomi born in Europe, Caribbean raised lived and works in Canada, the States; ‘dress shifts stitched to frame her resumé ! who swears prints of origin (foot, mud) hardly matter.
Elbow duty on toilet seat jaw propping no longer pays; nor bony fingers for peeling hard boiled eggs . for pleasure^pain pin pointing.
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Desirée who tests underwear for a living likes folding heritage layers . steupsing at people who kneel on no^carpet floors; who peep the leaf, saving grace^favours.
World devices chill minds + keep fanning body heat | our island drivers fear updates, which explains sunset shivers, nightie fucking No, not now! suck teeth.
– W.W..
[ Colonial Order of Clouds . Georgetown, Guyana . 1965 ]
YUH RAP SO (5.9)
Sequitur: There were so many leaves still green On the ground of the clearing in which he found Himself standing + looking around – not stalled By anything save why he was there at all – That tired Thomasson was again made aware Of the absence of soothing Autumns to cure The eternal-summer fevers in these parts – As he still thought of this posting, this outpost Of the dearthing Commonwealth (its bank-accounts Under new [IMF/World Bank] management, New Empire-aegis for Friendly Dictators):
The trees he sensed were unaware that murder Was the principle seeding their own jungle
“Don’t worry. His shoulders and arms were always big. But his legs fine-fine like yours.” – Wilson Harris, The Whole Armour (1962)
Though you might think you getting off at Stockings, Heritage Ware . contractors clap clap clicking Can we help you ? gut a wish made fish or two.
Street vendoritas at fruit stalls warn ~ Please don’t squeeze up the zaboca ~ a piece of wood could buss yuh head | dress nice for up stairs to devotion tiers; copy^heads up first.
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As harpy wings flutter on shoulders bared wives near 40nine worry . bent over still best at bed pillow plumping; fat flanking dry dock days of prayer.
While soup still hot . spoon sip soothe the pelvis lining . No place set to bread stick this deliciousness | one heart loss Only one! rests here.
…………
As take holders shuffle deal our Estate card men front ‘n’ grind | strips cropped for runway ? who has tools or time to think pantless wheels in need of hangar.
Her overseer sheets wrung on line hung to dry . ocean blue blue sighs despite I goin’ seal Him ! ring on finger wax tight tight so reparation nights burn bright.
W.W.
[ Colonial Left Turn . Georgetown, Guyana 1977 ]
YUH RAP SO (5.8)
Wandering Zimmer-men can’t afford to stall At the romance of Struggling-Artist failure: Carpentering minstrels do not lop their ears Nor blow their poor brains out in sunflower fields As yellow as the shite of the world’s blind bird Peacocking its quills deaf to Death’s drums + drone: For Judd, aristo-son South American (He refused an Anglo-Caribbean fate) Social failure was an opportunist grace By which – as in all poverty self-valued – Experiment’s alloy alone proved true gold.
Noga as a singer is as frightening as her person is approachably kindly in her looking-after of hungry people even us with too much food-money to be hungry in the gut but who eat anyway – if just to prove we can afford to eat more that our spoilsport cardiologists advise^ too-much proves us as rich as not-enough prods poor people to seek heart beyond the wilful muscular organ pumping away under its cage of ribs policing its tyranny of automatic memory and its twin amnesiac habit and their delusion that their body-serfdom is their final empire
(from “Limboa”, a sentimental anthem, by Brian Chan, 2023)