marauding foxes
mutilating fruit
minutemen mischief-makers
marching upon us
pick our pockets
laugh at our loss
“No mangoes for sale”
maimed, mangled, mashed
sweetness shamed
to death
ants and gnats feasting
off illicit mango chutney
sly scamps
evade
like Bolt-pace
their intake
of fruit sugars
insufficient for catching
robust diabetes
enfeebling the fiends
abducting limbs, or a pedactyl
soulful eyes stare with jeers
sailing
mimicking
bold breezes
through the trees
as I could never
in the canopy of my Caribbean youth
under mother's God-eye
girls outclimbed me
wearing puffy petticoats
and cumbersome cornrows
to perpetrate petite thefts
of mangoes
I fondly fathom sound answers,
Dancing around subjective flame,
Looking through me,
Beautiful deceptive eyes,
Verbal enfeebling spy,
A con man's survival game,
Jester-like remorse
Tapping the blood of man,
It's all just who you know,
A subtle, undefined force,
Snorting money as they,
Go,
Bejeweled fingers thump,
As if we all waste,
There beloved time,
Filling their cups to brim,
With golden animosity,
A featherweight's crime.
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