Canterbury Nostalgia

O to be there again Little boys dancing for calypso dimes And the US marines, angelic in white White rum frolicking in the chapel of their brain Laughing like water on the ships grey side Sons, fathers, husbands Finding respite in the sedulous arms Of intinerant lovers Milking their wallets with sugarcane charms Not that significant fact That stalled my hunger many days Is my longing now But the friendhsips we share then Bees swinging sibilant songs to tease The honeyed flow from orange blossoms: hookers of the breeze We fragment of a frantic civilization Marginalized by the necessity That sent us pirating sea shells Selling purple throated conchs for breeze Of charity satiated with alcohol and disease And trees for white flesh of almond nuts And a safe place to sleep Above the coral theatre our clouds Meandering like eyes over the city's Barren breast in delicious idleness I long for friends again like those That made time's calcite hands beautiful As a stalagmite In our oppressor's concrete heart ... My best imagination then Was our racing kites tugging at clouds For white puffs of affection.