[Note: The power of the spoken Poem: “Are you (listening)/hearing me down there?” - Vampyres of Leisure].

————————————————————————————————————-

Randall knows about

The Island, sure & quickly

as Jack Robinson

from here to St. Kitts, It’s not

juste any mystery, none

for them who know, n’est-ce

pas? fault? what fault? abide the

subterranean

line, b’tween blue water-black holes

another JC-Betraynd

the truths held & sel-

dom told, ‘bout the Prince-au-Port

demons’ Haitiwork

& TheBook Of Agenda

as right-eous as Robertson

hard rain, unswell ground-

swell came to a’ready swollen

bellies & near to

eliminated int’rest

‘cept…right-as-wrong as the song

not awant to play

that way…a temp folks’

song,  je ne sais quoi…

& so, another atoll

demolished, abolition

abolished, gone with

the tolling place, a soundless

idea Haiticare

soilbeans & septicola

in rank pandemonium!

7.0’s not

neutral, base acidicism

rightspin prediction

not ambi-valent nor a                      

re-tort, schemoviscery, a

boulder new kindless

cataclysm for the Zoe

herethere, everwhere

can/do you hear us, you are listening?

chacun a son gout, oui, well,

not anthropophage,

yet…but the lore made lawless

“How many roads must…?”

asked Taino Kiskeya

came the reply, Ayiti

One who hates his own

when Arawak mountainous land

once…  now percussive

repercussed deep & dark, name-

less, blame to a faultly fault?

H.e.m./H’H.

                            1.18.MMx.

                            (Chai?)

Drawing by Terrianne U. Swift

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