Sensitive Times
When the boats washed up surfless from wars
We dived from the United Fruit Company wharves
Like gulls naked in the light of their eyes
Marking where the shining metals fell
Below the howling hoots, and kiting scarves
We plucked our lunches from the sands
Then finless rose to wind again
They were entertained by our necessity
And all we worth peripheral to the hilarity
That refused us a place of dignity then
Opportunity to display ourselves as men
And sometimes my being had no presence there
I was a shadow in the jungle, an image of fear
Harboring animistic beliefs that could transform
Margins of civilize safety and shatter norms.
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
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