Wheat face like on toilet seat force^waiting issues,
think when last we checked our licensing of crude
extraction ? suck raw moon essentials for goose throat
beak^end titling < sweet time tekking.
Card packed our own hearts squat^strain ache
to leave, though once the lift^move start the chest
sense through lines far^near breaking.
Tongues might
licky quick fly at you . Whoa! back side No . who
go cock^good morning hail ? boxers nighties turn
over.
\ On our shoulders vise^pads slip > watch this!
march fly road gaming : up front the stilt man
scanning crowd, mask over nose; eyes for girl
child . snatch dis‘ppearing.
Oh, nah so it go ? through
swallow hole no trace of theft | well, samaan tree
hear faith unzipping . hive^mind shedding night
hair fright lay^lay the wind; fire rude so.
Ol' chillum piper's dream ~ stand aside, watch all
lock cutters / never in the history of cuff^toss
loss / march into the sea . spine bruk!
Storm system
sink dem, yeah man ! clap thunder^flash fi all yaad
bred dem drain waste, yeah man.
– W.W.
VIEW FROM THE OTHER TOWER
We looked up from our splintering pale faces
and saw a ruined two-towered castle
in which we would hide from the lion we
had never seen and from the tribe we could
see approaching, dark and speared, to seize our pool.
In that tower we huddled, our tribe, for days
until, all danger be damned, we pulled out
our raw hamburger and fried it despite
the giveaway smoke: who does not prefer
being eaten to be being trapped or ignored?
When the quiet brutes arrived, they drank and washed,
just like us civilized apes, except they
seemed to fear neither lion nor castle
nor our hiding in it: they were patient:
sooner or later we would have to come out.
…………………………………………………
(from “The Gift Of Screws” by Brian Chan, 2008)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 