Voice of Guyana International

Even in that place of final exile
among tombs, and mechanical inscriptions,
each leaf is a different green,
flower of a different kind
of red and yellow; also each ripe fruit
tumult of a really different seed
there, in that place. » Read the rest of this entry «

Me try haad haad fuh brukway,
talk proper
hat potato inna me mout,
fuh steam out d-sin-taxs
in English metering
an design calypso
inna two step waltz
of military timing
but
too much genip fasten pun man lip
too much jamoon stain pun man tongue. » Read the rest of this entry «

my body’s a hallowed
stick of bone, a flute
through which you pipe
your melody. » Read the rest of this entry «