ISLAND-MAN

(for Dr. Edwin Carrington, Secretary General of CARICOM)

From a Third World,
within a Third World,
within the Third World;
forgotten, behind God’s back,
there, where I found you at the end of a donkey track,
now a pothole road donated by the Doc,

ending by a river where no bridge was worth building
to cross over; the same river,
running into your history,
running into your destiny,
running into a bloody bay,
polluted by pirate blood

spilled in criminal,
colonial wars of yore,
wars for position and possession.

Black and blue, my great grandfather
toiled, on your indigo plantation,
(when sugar-cane was king;
there was no beet or saccharine
to sweeten the coffee of the Queen),
by force, he had no choice.

Then later, my mother toiled, on your estate,
(when copra and coconut-oil was king;
there was no soya-bean
to lower the cholesterol of the Queen),
for a ha’penny and a farthing,
she had no choice.

Yesterday, I toiled, in your food basket,
(when dasheen and yam and cassava was king;
there was no oil-boom
to overflow the coffer of the Queen),
for a shilling, for next to nothing,
I had no choice;

until you bring your employment project,
to hell with your food-basket;
I will still make a little hustle in the sea,
plant a little garden and thing, maybe.
But now the dollar is king,
now I don’t need no gayap or len’an’

I can do without tradition
because money is king
and if thing too slow, I can go to town
on a pothole road;
except when rain come down
and block or break away the road;

or even better, I can cross the water,
by steamer, the same coastal steamer
that yesterday used to dock from bay to bay
to pick up my dasheen and cassava,
when the road was a muddy track,
now a pothole road that will bring me back

to a Third World,
within a Third World,
within the Third World,
still behind God’s back;
the lights and the water and the telephone
taking so long to come.

Sucked by houleyg and soucoyant,
and mosquito and vampire,
sucked and raped by politician,
sucked, raped, plundered by businessman,
by Frenchman and by Dutchman
and Portuguese and German,

American and Englishman.
I have produced coffee, cocoa, cotton and sugar,
indigo and copra, ground provision and timber,
fish by the boatload, and great men;
men of integrity, dignity and honesty;
men of high honour, and valour;

I am a man, to my word; I will always be here,
come rain, come sun, or river come down,
expect Island-man to be there.

Copyright ©1995 by G. Newton V. Chance