quote:

Christ have mercy on all sleeping things!
From that dog rotting down Wrightson Road
to when I was a dog on these streets;
if loving these islands must be my load,
out of corruption my soul takes wings.
But they had started to poison my soul
with their big house, big car, big-time bohbohl,
coolie, friend of the family, Syrian, and French Creole,
so I leave it for them and their carnival—
I taking a sea bath, I gone down the road.
I know these islands from Monos to Nassau,
a rusty head sailor with sea-green eyes
that they nickname Shabine, the patois for
any red friend of the family, and I, Shabine, saw
when these slums of empire was paradise.
I’m just a red friend of the family who love the sea,
I had a sound colonial education,
I have Dutch, friend of the family, and English in me,
and either I’m nobody, or I’m a nation,