Sent forward from Japan . of Kaieteur where?
no one ever heard; for new cocktail nice name
maybe one day limes mix.
Grown past time for metaphysics ~ her mother’s rope
bridge, our peak Amalivaca ~ how are you : wedged
to like partials, observing how circuits break smack
in the riddle of rib cage strainings : doing? she asks.
Tree limbs we still keep trim for leaf
count, hedge cover : far shed from book lamp
bed fruit peeling . ceiling thump thumb message
staring.
Rivers caravan the world winds ladder
mountains : why strip to tango same old Orinoco,
touch Salvador the ash fray base? she tasks.
Couplets metered long ago clipped our made kites
fly sky low . island stanzas down tied witch paper
mate with "bitch" . soaked fuh so in spirits.
Card game our deck feet chip, link sync
to syrtaki . play Bonjour! list, side swipe the dark
off night, ship light.
Vijinie all the while
smiles . show showers Konichiwa! love blossoms
her daughter’s hoist the sail tattoos : go ahead
lick clicks on this if morning mists persist.
– W.W.
SAND. CAVE. GRAVE. CLOUD
Numbed by a love x-ed out,
he sees his mind and words
turned to noughts and crosses
and listens to the mocking jackals
of his fate in outer space scattered
like cut-loose exploding astronauts.
Without her whose flames burnt
his blood deaf, he cannot
breathe ‒ yet he breathes, he bleeds,
he can still hear storms he knows will pass
without a drop of rain for his heart’s
desert that can only scream its cracks.
He chokes in the coffin
of a promise he has
promised never again
to break, so as now to break no more
than one heart, his own ‒ surrender made
not in fear, courage or greed for grace,
but in absolute trust
that nothing else will melt
this lock or raze these walls,
nothing is more full of the Sun than
the tenderness of the willing wait
lighter than its choice, slower, but fast.
(from “Nor Like An Addict Would” © by Brian Chan)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 