Count It With Numbers - Gulf of Guinea, September, 1839

Dropped anchor off the Fever Coast ‘board a rake-masted schooner Spooked by Ahab’s ghost. Lamps glowered through the yawning blanks Casting bone-twisted shadows Over teakwood planks. Salt biscuits and Jamaican rum; Heard the deep-throated rattle Of the talking drum. Count it with numbers. Say it with words... Leaned hard against the mains’l boom. Strained my eyes in the blackness Of the brackish gloom. Port lookout gave the counter sign; Put our boats in the water, Oar blades dripping brine. Paid tribute to the pagan chief In exchange for a passage Past uncharted reefs. Count it with numbers. Say it with words... Slave dealers ruled the hidden cove Near a shrine to the god Of the cassava grove. Made landing on the leeward shore. Stacked our crates on the beach; They totaled near a score. Trade muskets worth some eighteen head Pleased our hosts and they showed us To the holding shed. Count it with numbers. Say it with words... Grey shackles made a hollow clank. Moved them out single file, Guards on either flank. Fog greeted our return aboard. Stashed our cargo below Where once the guns were stored. Turned to and dodged a man-o-war. Rode that swift tidal current Like a smuggler’s whore. Count it with numbers. Say it with words... Fair sailing till we hit the Cape, But we made Madagascar Still in decent shape. Brisk business on the auction block Where a Dutch merchant Purchased our entire stock. He sold ‘em to the Portuguese. We set course for Calcutta With the morning breeze. Count it with numbers. Say it with words... Crew mustered in the open air. Coins were stacked on a blanket And I took my share. Two hundred stone of human freight Brought me four Spanish dollars And a piece of eight. Christ Jesus, we be ruthless men. Tell the god of the cassava We’ll be back again. Count it with numbers. Say it with words: Guilt and compassion? Sh*t for the birds!