BAMBOO POST IN YUH ROUNDHOUSE

  

                          
                  After the feast so much depends on no one noticing till you reach
                  Canada. You could be "sent on leave" if you get caught. But listen,
                  ask for Chouki; he's mih friend; tell him I send you.

                  Prime time consummation : the bridegroom in beads plays the theme
                  for love there after : complaining he tired sitting and smiling all
                  afternoon : So hurry up, nah : seedlings seething.

                  We don't skin crêpe like Americans. Our Indians didn't hunt buffalo.
                  I know is you, this driver smiled, as Clint Eastwood walked away
                  from his maxi taxi (the horn does honk La Cucaracha). 

                  Out of sadness out of words hand wrings touch your arm. Our victims
                  prefer the sponge. Heart don't swim in numbers, don't speak Statistics.
                  The Book of Revelation sheathes my sword and everybody's business.

                  This child we call Nation, considering the licks he get from parents
                  poor, growing up sullen and own way : a crocodile on the bank, field
                  gold in John Crow circles, he breathes in sea particles. Tewé Vaval, 
                  
his call.
 

                  You dry log years in office, shifty for highness . Grade I. Then one
                  
day : braps! : bad feelings. That pasture holding strain . set 'o crab
                  hard in yuh grass, roots man . more than you know. 


                  This English explorer would move a finger up the thighs of his
                  Amerindian help mate. There are subtle differences . fate lines,
                  he felt certain. In his published findings not a snitch.


                  Pertaining to plantain shares, consumer confidence remains high. Plus
                  as you may recall : some women practiced meditation picking bad
                  rice from enamel bowls back in the day; hind most mind full
                              on haunch, it cured essential tremors.

                                                                                           – W.W.
                          

 

                                     

   

  

 

                          
                  THERE'S A THREE-LEGGED DOG


                  keeping pace with his brisk unsentimental mistress
                  who leads him across
                  pulsing veins of impatience we call city-traffic
                  and makes him climb stairs.
                  All this he does with a graceful lack of fuss: nothing
                  to do but balance
                  from the centre of his lack of symmetry, the line
                  quivering between
                  his eye and the ground his second fourth and first fifth leg.

                       (from "The Gift Of Screws" by Brian Chan)  

 

    

 

 

Unknown's avatar

Author: FarJourney Caribbean

Born in Guyana : Wyck Williams writes poetry and fiction. He lives in New York City. The poet Brian Chan lives in Alberta, Canada.

Leave a comment