"..tryin to mek sense
of all de wallawallawalla"
– Kamau Brathwaite, "Kumina"
The brain to swish pain on any limb / random, close / should
send strokers into island forests where debts 'n' nature
dance to tune : head in a bag full of bees.
The hands to drive car fast way
lay soft rounding bends; bicycle lane where frame ‘n’ grass
collection loose Oh Shit! in green red fly.
Not so good heaven folk next door knock asking
help securing heart transplant; it breaks step up . island
bottoms, hip permits like for tippy toe ballet.
All zinc fenced out, gun bwoy barbare | monde guango see
tek wing, grade skin fi suck . nice stranger recognize.
A breadth of version they’re held
responsible for by prunes at gossip meets; by flower stalkers
hunched over microscope | ovules warm Oh boy, watch
trouble nah.
Whose will lifts crow song bars for ‘ours before’ ? ocean
cross ties | ash tomb fight, two stick tight.
Grille world . enough
to go around, head home; probe done with sun belt, cold
snap . shots of breast in vest, best for market over weight
vendors – Excuse me? – minivan now boarding.
Centuries through cane, sacred
savings . ‘Tessa ello!...ello!’
– W.W.
BRICOLAGE
He had clichés galore to live up to and live down,
And was eager, as an in-White Englishman,
To be seen not wanting to be seen as White,
Thereby ending up being ignored as one.
Only poor students, not yet schooled in lying
Through their teeth to stay balanced on ambition’s
Ladder entertained the ex-Cockney for his
‘Honesty’, for the very innocence that made him
Open his mouth to let his story jump out
Like an enthusiastic frog, warts and all.
His only ambition it seemed was to play –
With words, ideas and those academic banes,
Feelings and their utterances
(from “Charon’s Anchors” by Brian Chan)
-
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 