“Each day I ride a wild black horse of terror
and every night I lock him in my bosom…”
– Marin Carter, Human Guide (1952)
Not paid to watch pots boil they wash
the stump, floss grit sweets; get to work
on orifice tiers < heads case loading
kilos of field servility . all said ‘n’ done.
Thirst never ending Data centers need lots,
lots of water | our roadside vendors whistle
through the nose Agua, agua! . breath
thread through cactus needles.
…………………..
Scratch tests, hallucination hues? let the cave
man paint his wall . until first in, last agent
outside wave Gone Clear! . air truth light
kreyol engaging.
……………………
Against the known laws of cocoonery
Bismattie swears the pelvis grip cleared
her floor boards of doubt . out so she^
they recognize . vows equal, separate blood rush.
Wing tips dip ? as broad bands sweat ‘n’
ramajay + artery mas’ bulbs flicker ~ Welcome
back, Piyumi! ~ butterfly swim lanes stay
open, Poised to up fling? ~ shed a skin.
- W.W.
YUH RAP SO (6.7)
Down in the Bush up in the Interior,
One more rung to High Heaven on her ladder
Of God-lust odd in an otherwise docile
Gyirl trying her best to keep a low profile –
More so after the thing behind the sea-wall
Which had made her flesh feel like a cannibal’s
Bloody treat + turned her off all males for good,
Including her lover, though he too had bled
As part of the wages of their lapse of lust
As shameful for its haste as for the rapists’
Voyeur-into-vampire perversion of it:
Her prayers after sex-nightmares helped her forget
Or rather not recall too well the details
Of the rage she ‘d felt at losing all control
(from Raponani by Brian Chan, 2023)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 