Arts for the 21st Century

Mornin Neighbour

Mornin-mornin. How yuh do?

Now is good time for a little reasonin, 

when day jus’ beginin. Too besides is Sunday. 

No rushin. Even God take day-off. Watch— 

grass shinin, beach wash clean, an listen, 

Kingfisher ramayin sweet on electric wire—

like is bran-new song he bringin. 

We fresh as we could get. Yuh know how it is—

ozone depletin an’ de world heavy-heavy 

totin all dat beat-down history—but never min’, 

I believe we make for new-leaf restart.

Even stone could change to heart.

      So mornin neighbs. Mornin.

I watchin dat wall yuh start buildin, 

an how high it goin. What happen—

my face cause you upset? Doh fret, 

I only stydyin all dat rough talk we hearin 

over TV about walls. I feel we come too close 

for puttin up fences. Yuh ever study: 

borders doh mark a country,

an walls doh make us safe or free. 

Neighbs, need a different kinda security.

Jus think: people-self, like you and me,

decide to bring dem down—cross lan’ an sea

jus to reach a place dat is not a prison—

a place where dey could eat food 

when day come and stop livin prodigal, 

like dey not already home. 

      Neighbour, how I talk? 

I know you didn’t go weekend school

an I don’t want to play bright—

though I do my reading on de side—

but I have to say, time never was 

when fences make good neighbours. 

Whatever is de something dat doh like wall

finally break ground, and it shiftin block, 

openin crack,  topplin Babels dat keep us apart. 

Is people we have to thank—dem-self

wit no place to lie down when night come.

I not too religious, but if yuh ask me, 

how dis world come—all kinda language 

bounce up, like is a real Pentecost.

      Doh get me wrong. Lawlessness

is no creed to live by, an borders have purpose; 

but when Laws & Economy on any side 

pay justice no min’, and when Walls

make us less each other’s keeper, 

well, my frien, dat is recipe fuh disaster.  

Right here in dis yard, one-one, 

we have to make a tomorrow better. 

What yuh say? I know. I know—

criminals thirsty for blood, 

not to mention tief when zaboca 

an mango season come,

but I swear my chirren well instruct

to only take up what fall natural. 

      Neighbs, I have to admit 

yuh wall comin up nice and strong, 

but to cut long story short,

measure down one-two block 

so at least when mornin come, 

I could see your face...