From under Empire^mildew flats our mountain
crabs emerge, stretch graspy airs ~ paused
till the moon gets the angle right for fables.
Like juveniles they move out^in till the catcher
looms; stick pins, numbers click. One more
lock on the treasury. Eat growth, no mercy.
^
Clustered on slim branches orange berries unzip
flowers open for the broad daylight of the world.
Fruit from fameless trees fall . birds ‘n’ bees
follow odours take the floor.
Heavy rain, the moon just right, mulch
of fruit not cherished | the crab ‘n’ catcher hunger
trade . mates@midnight change side ways.
^
Give thanks to the forest, pray the cell’phane
chain saw keep away, spare our quilts | out^
wit wild beast perfume, bois^men at bag ‘n’ play.
From identity hold to steaming pot blue backs
like aliens on the plate . legs snapped fork^
lift configuring ! Nature’s dish winners.
* A scuttling deficiency? Gethatalligatorouttahere :
pirate gut ! wanting more than we take.
– W.W.
YUH RAP SO (5.1)
So the book begat Khan who begat pictures
& forged fables for funeral-services,
Prayers that stood up well beside St. Francis’s
Although Indian Inky Khan was no Christian
Propheteer (he locked Jesus to the Qur’an)
& felt no need to follow even The One
Nor believe any stuff he scribbled down
To console (for a few dollars) crying clowns
(The way his father sold rum to the heathen
Niggers stchupit enough to spend to have fun)
Showing up to confirm life’s circus of games:
Inky who thought, nay knew he was beyond themes
Of morality + such (mortality
Was a different money sprouting matter he
Willingly paid lip service to
(from “Raponani”, by Brian Chan, 2023)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 