North Atlantic Circus, and: A State of Occupation, and: Haiti's Marché en Fer, and: Secret of La Sirène, and: Supreme Séance Patrick Sylvain (bio) North Atlantic Circus I was not introduced to the circusas a child. North Atlantic magicwas projected through a two dimensionalTV, where jugglers rode on unicyclesand threw pins in rapid circlesas if they were four arms—Vishnu. The universe spun in iron cageswith looping cyclists and daredevilswho rode their motorcycles sideways,backwards, or standing as if ridingan iron horse. I swallowed those imagesas natural as sacramental breads. I was an adult, teachingMiddle-school immigrantswhen we encountered the circus.Clowns jumping through flaming hoops,and obedient elephants droppingcake-sized dung, the air reeked. We ate cotton candy and popcornwhile hoping the man and womanbalancing on a highwired chairin tight blue outfitswould not plunge the thirty feetonto the un-netted painted floor. So many images, so many whip-controlled tigers,and growling lions executing tricks. A glitteringmale trainer commanded with a metal wandand a whip. Always a whip in this carnivalesque land.Beneath the grunts, magic in the air. cruelty stayedbehind the curtains with ongoing applause. A State of Occupation (US Occupation of Haiti: 1915-34) 1 Before the dawn of July nineteen-fifteen, the oceanWaves moaned the weight of the iron sharksFaring marines like storms approaching the HaitianShores. As wind whimpered through avocado trees,And the engines roared toward the absent prince'sPort of Port-au-Prince, the frigates and the pelicansShrieked their warnings so vigils could be kept, andDoors locked against the descendants of Columbus,Who took for themselves Amerigo Vespucci's name [End Page 225] Given to two continents as if Monroe was an absoluteGuardian doctrinaire of the Americas. And you, MajorGeneral Butler, spearheaded the new pillage of an oldColony with stanzas of gold in its national bank coffer.The bow of your ship, USS Connecticut, sliced throughWaves as sharp as a blade. Your 5th and 13th regimentsTouched another soil, soiling sovereignty for capital. 2 Dear Major General Butler and Admiral Caperton,Haiti was a night light flickering out against chaoticWinds, and your American hands were the perfectParawinds. The gentle giant who only stepped inTo provide order. Haiti was a land of bandits. A landOf political marauders that had to be brought into line.A line of civility where French-speaking niggers wouldLearn the southern etiquettes of Jim Crow coquetries.The black man was nothing to you but a commodity,Chattel labor with no will to sing his own songs beyondHis designated cage that was formulated by Columbus'sProgeny. They tinkered with servitude and slavery, madeCapitalism God's providence, and the white manGuardian of the eternal spring of dolled-up tyranny.Charlemagne Péralte and his men, the wretchedInheritors of the earth, smelled the leaves of trickery. 3 These men who formed the resistance were calledCacos. Black-chested men with blood-stained shouldersLike the crying caco bird. Black and red. BlacknessOf the night made them weightless, birds with silentWings that fluttered in the white man's imagination.But you, your officers, and your regiments practicedWarfare like the intake of breaths. Killing was a sniff.A way of tricking sons and daughters into informants,Bribing so your swords would minimize the red stains stackedInside the sheaths. You succeeded in knowing how blackShadows walked without stirring the grass and blending inWith the foliage. You succeeded by turning neighbors intoNational venom, accomplices in a kinsman's death. So,It was that Jean-Baptiste Conzé, a northern businessmanFrom Grand Rivière, greedy for more capital, who aided CaptainHerman Hanneken like a pimp's whore in capturing Péralte. 4 Before Blackface was a staple of Broadway and Hollywood,Captain Hanneken adorned a blackface with peasant garb,And ammunition in burlap sacks. His Gendarmerie soldiers,Black Haitians, also disguised, pursuing Charlemagne PéralteThrough the wooded mountains like a mongoose hunting snakes.Jean-Baptiste Conzé made...