"the incomplete discovery of the world
in the blueness of its delicacy…"
– Wilson Harris, Heartland (1964)
Who can sense purpose ? in the buffalo first
thundering the earth | at centers of yearning wind
swerves riffle clothes line devotion.
/ Fork ready, our orchid care
takers wait at cloud^fills for buried souls, corpse
past life reheating; fault lay.
/ Children playing near the manatee
pond learn not to stare strangers in the face;
crows talk to crows – from the bus stop they will
shadow you verklempt ‘n’ easy.
+
Up from desert strand ? gender slash intact
Tell us everything . this way, speak to the cameras.
Bitch dream ! over ‘n’ over sand snake binders
inside cicada night court.
Boxes of warriors ferried on a thousand
shoulders, streets choked | iPhone bystanding
swipe new fertile points . vinyl scratch
ol’ sperm hits on parade; heart hold.
Your face means nothing Not unveiled. Lamp
constancy I know no other shade chill out
wood fires | always something there to remind
you . robed men pray^hawking in their beards.
– W.W.
YUH RAP SO (1.0)
That Freda liked listening to Robb’s radio
With its shortwave portals to other foreign
Tongues + songs + News (This Is London Calling)
& suchlike distractions of propaganda
(But the Internet not yet) made him wonder
Whether his baby was then city-ready:
But there, her otherness-rainbows would fast be
Fleshed out as Fun or verbosely aborted,
Coming true – dreams, love – or coming through – delayed
Emigration-permits
(from “Raponani” by Brian Chan, 2023)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 