¿ SO HOW YOU THINK THE NATIVES FEEL

               
 
            In their morning papers they honor articles 
            about our mango
in backyard; not recipe,
            articles ! subscribe ripe forcing so.

                    \ Over there after home invasion owners
            consider buying gun. Be thankful yuh know
            yuh Falls, at brim to screech Yes Lord | no seasons
            to poface lift through, wind chillin’ so.

                                               + 

            Our Minister, all chest ‘n’ wood, conducts affairs
            off the bark of trees. ‘These extensions you run pipe
            line^like from our home > late night dream
            sweet
vending, Who takes you?’ gap thighs chafe.                             

                  \ Bhacku new minivan need sobriety ‘n’ space            
            to overtake; implying?  on the verge of dignity 
            best grass chip single file | hair brush^like ‘im
            scrape
pass? I told you.

                                              +


            Beard
long ago Capt Bocass drop this bell shape
            anchor . @ringtone Prize reward | bathers not bi^
            coastal iron heat into muddah wavelike sheet.

                         \ Eye roll sighs heave crate^lives high + 
            dry @nation ports | Endrush?  gully folk
            know what stars ‘n’ blight them apple kingdom
            sight. Hush, watch nuh. 
                                                          – W.W.

 

         

           

              YUH RAP SO (4.8)

                But Freda Aborigina was also  
              Modern,
not only by dint of books borrowed
              From Judd but also as modern as Desire
              Itself whose cutlass ignores every whisper
              Of conscience + caution ghosting its vigour:
              Just as Judd sensing of a silence-Power
              Vaster than the wisdom out of whose womb he
              Had emerged + still kept emerging with speech
              Would soon drown under floods of nostalgic need
              For city-wheels of loud Culture, so too would
              Freda’s mind-fruits need to leap off their tribe-tree:

                All intelligence, first + last, will obey
              That perverse gene informing all of Nature
              From cloud to seed: the buried seed splits, eager
              To sprout + keeps shooting up + branching through
              The gnarls of its demanding mind

                (from “Raponani”, by Brian Chan, 2023)

             

         

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Author: FarJourney Caribbean

Born in Guyana : Wyck Williams writes poetry and fiction. He lives in New York City. The poet Brian Chan lives in Alberta, Canada.

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