Wednesday, January 7, 2009

the origin of a backbone

I am third generation.

Eve’s dropping out from a breadfruit tree
would only give her
less humanly parts of a character,
so after her falling once, she thought man would help her
to redeem her steps,
a-damned road to walk,

and with this ring she vows never to forget,
that ignorance begets fear, and fear forms regret
but yuh never know why the feeling there,
until it really starts to set-
settle-
in.

So she turn uneasy in her own skin,
wearing the pride of a first-lady, but the envy of a second,
he remained silent for every time that she questioned,
her husband
was always a charmer.

Eve is not supposed to release her laughter
when it is invoked,
she would have to choke on her instinct, too profane to be provoked,
they always spoke about her,
I remember that her broughtupsy
only knew the shame behind fig-leaves
and the scorn of a non-creole God,
this Woman made her living in the leasehold she laboured,
but this is not where the rivers crossed their courses,
this is where the talk of the town carried both her and her lineage,
here are children that descended from a mess of a mixed-marriage,
pronounce them man and victim- the Red House records it,
but she would never admit the carnage is in her wedding bed,
the wreckage of a relationship harboured in the lies he always led
her to believe,
a-damn day would never pass without him going to see
his mistress,
I have come to learn that deception is ageless
as she keeps her part of the bargain
and 2) that divorce is bigger a sin for old people.

copyright 2009

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