"She was a pale-brown woman, about thirty,
somewhat plump, and her favourite colour
was blue. She called herself Dolly. We used
to see her looking blankly out of the windows."
- VSN, "Miguel Street"
Quick to draw veil, mark threat
our neighbours keep stills of elephant innocence; even when sore
at bottom volcanos pass quiet quiet, gift roll picks of flowers
for rectum rectitude.
Sun . so plenty spider eating
shade in tree lime haze; speech free like seed in rage bird
feeders . zip ties in the bird.
Morning you break your bread . fruit should night fall;
evidencing you scour . the mind our food burnt utensils | stones
fleece gall peezy squeezy . catch the gaze as statues topple,
open fly rods refute.
~
Wriggles in the stomach ? only a wish but Boysie
swear he snag a halo to casque his head hard.
All of a sudden at thirty one he stopping for water
coconut, he counting chicken spring.
No, not power moves, which does blow back exposure
blows. He scrimping to frontier . spine infection dress flush
over seas – the speed of flight is not for all the same.
Off the plane labor pay slips fail to wave . but at least he step!
distance on line long pave | while high ‘n’ dry love cramping
game Dulcienne (first) put gem ring in her navel (next) rose
tattoo on breast view . till Eh-eh! everybody Stay home! rubber
band stretching.
– W.W.
MARA
Not that Mara, though a house-trained Guyanese
Chameleon, has felt any more at home
In loud Illinois or Brazil than in this
Anxious secretive ambitious big-citied small town
*OR IN that big town of George’s where she’d borne
The diseducation of being born and
Reared in a hothouse of brilliant repressives
Who knew much about the world but little of
Themselves, only what was required of those selves
By the demanding phantoms and directors
(from “Charon’s Anchors” by Brian Chan)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 