Andre Bagoo














From Kiskadee

Redhead Bay, Cumana
















From Kiskadee

I

 
I am not here
I am not me
this is not my country
the rivers and the streams
they do not meet the sea
the rain comes down heavy
but not for me
 
III
 
Two weeks later, I woke
I smelled smoke
the kind you cannot see
kiss me, kiskadee
the kind you cannot see
though you know
you can be free
you know
a bush fire is raging
I go flying
the asphalt roads are streams
I watch him each day
like a mirror he answers
two weeks later, I turn
to check, to see
is he next to me?









Redhead Bay, Cumana

Even the beach is deceptive
a piece of wood turns into a dolphin
a rock becomes soft clay
all things come undone at Redhead Bay
I go, I go, I go, I go
exploring a mile Ill never know
every beach has no end
I cannot escape you
but the long day must end
in a few hours, the water takes back everything
the blue rope it snakes ashore
sea-coconuts rolling, like skulls, back to sea
bottles and rubbish that never really disappear
they will disappear
until then, write it in sand
be equal to the pale classes, and the other men
surf the hills that are green waves
though nobody hears, nobody sees
what else are we supposed to do
if not climb the almond trees?











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