03/22/2026
In refrigeration for years her marriage sought
the finish^line, not heat, to thaw | the ceiling
fan knows lightning rarely strikes our copy^
masters . thought in compost spin.
When like priesthood our fate mappers get
old their vanities camp fire . gaze poking
blood fresh entry points. Don’t act too surprised
at red flags; yellow pee | fodder fuckers.
……………..
Jumbie birds need an iron wheel on the bridge,
co-pilot like . they struggle with world winds –
rigors gasp ‘n’ peek, new to human sorcery.
Our forest ballerinas skip^cross rivers
green heart space cleared for landing. No
point asking to try their shoes on . life^
lift shopping off plantation price floors.
………………
Backs unheard of bent in rice field
labour ! cameras saved scarce frames
of baby^carrying . mainly cane stacking
+ granules of hard dignity, taste verifying.
As oceans of crude promise gush watch
islanders port chase, wag tail side to side.
Oh god! what ~ dark matter in the hold? ~
every outcast stows away one stolen star.
- W.W
YUH RAP SO (6.8)
No subject ashamed of not having lived – no
verb ashamed of still not living – no object
ashamed of not being alive – no full stop
ashamed of not being alive like others
who have invented mazes of whys and hows
and other alibis for shallow breathing –
even if their shallow breaths are only their
expensively cheap way of partly living –
living totally only in and by pain
the total pain of births and wars and corpses
like myself yet breathing and standing around –
not even walking anymore but at least
grateful to have the echoes of words to live
into and up to and beyond to more words
(from Limboa, a sentimental anthem
by Brian Chan, 2023)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 