Banjo as a dark girl, and: She talk like this 'cause me Mum born elsewhere, say

Abstract

Banjo as a dark girl, and: She talk like this 'cause me Mum born elsewhere, say Lynne Thompson (bio) Banjo as a dark girl undiminished beryl.Many flood-plains.Life-flame—elegantturn—considerationof a still kind. Color up on her haunches.A hubbub rememberingwhen blood cannot, lovebeing more than the onlyminiature. Each nightfall chooses, and is injured.Caribe women know this.Sun up until moon-crest,they kneel but their tonguesare ever-feral and unchecked. [End Page 9] She talk like this 'cause me Mum born elsewhere, say Ackee and talk funny—make things up, but say apples, apricot—then say ackee—both fruit and juice make you feel good from the Beginning when she insulted Episcopalian Jesus, singing (top of her lungs) big-inning like a good Caribbean— or potato or po-tay-toe to a fool who say Caribbean—she laugh— Cari-bee-an…she say Dasheen: US got greens, but me mum got something else like Egret is same yes but Fiddle-faddle she never said, afraid of the Government & warned: enunciate the first n like you got good schoolin' not Hard knocks, as in school of— [is this making any sense?] Are you hungry for jumbee soursop? foul-smelling, bitter, good for make you suffer and keep quiet (this has nothing to do with mum being from Bequia [she say Beck-way]) she say [End Page 10] Legoland but her mouth waterin' for leg of lamb and money never got enough where you from and Nurdle as in a game of cricket when the batsman nudges the ball around and into a pureé of onions— never make a meal without `em. Pamela, (my 1st name she never call me) like I'm Queer you mean like the guy who lived in the house behind ours? He drink Rum then Sweets The sound when suck air through teeth like low class people from Trinidad… (sotto voce) your father's people, not sweet, sail from there to USA then again, mum was never truly n a t u r a l i z e d like a Vegeee-tuble spinach, peas, or beet soup causing—ha!— wee wee but no one say this when referring to piss & need some X-rays that don't show the way to float on a Yah-chit or yacht & make we laugh when mum butcher English except she remembers she's a Zebra that is same as you say when you mix the black & white— [End Page 11] Lynne Thompson Lynne Thompson is the author of Fretwork, winner of the 2018 Marsh Hawk Press Poetry Prize She also authored Beg No Pardon, winner of the Perugia Press Book Award, and Start With A Small Guitar (What Books Press). New work is forthcoming in Black Renaissance Noire and Ploughshares. Copyright © 2019 Pleiades and Pleiades Press