Marassa Jumeaux / geoffrey philp

Already offerings of candy and toys
have been spread at our feet to appease,
but we had no part in this. So many souls
.
did not have to join the ancestors.
Bondye has given you the power to save
yourselves, but like those priests who pretend
.
they don’t know we are older than their god;
presidents who sold blood for pearls as smooth
as skulls that hang around Michelle’s neck;
.
poets who would not speak in their mother’s
tongue, but remained mute as mulattos
who banned the name Papa Dessalines,
.
nèg refuse to see the fault that runs
deep through the chains of these islands,
betrayals that not even Maman Défilé
.
could heal. So bury us soon, for although
the earth is young, this island has been shaking
since the saints awakened at Bois Caiman.
.
Put our tiny bones in the caves of Jacmel,
under the waterfalls of Cormier Plage,
erect headstones from crushed cement
.
and twisted rebar to rebuild the dream,
for there is one who has always stood between us
in whose presence we tremble.
.
•••
.