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XXXXVIII
I make
Critical mistakes
The sun set’n
30min & No taxi to take us
The off-season in
Jamaica is harsh
I could not explain
Why all my efforts
To reach the
Government yards of
Trenchtown
Met with rejection
In a season when all
Reduce’d to beg’n
Trap’d on an island
Troubles are shared by all
_
Finally arrive’n
To Trenchtown by taxi
The driver pointed
Where Bob Marley lived
Then took off
I misunderstood the song
Thinking the Yards
Some city square where he would perform
_
Caves of poverty
Concrete square rooms
Bare walls on 5 sides
Continue’n in rows
Bob Marely proved
Destiny can pull from
The deepest pits
_
Immediately I knew
Our serious predicament
Now understand’n
Why other taxi did not take us
Since the start Christina
Would not listen to reason
White girl
In the shortest shorts
I looked around for any advantage
Know’n I must focus
On how to survive
In Trenchtown past 8:30pm
.
.
.
4:20am Monday
Lit Up
The panorama
4 Monitors
Black & Green ASCII
Scroll’n in a flush
7ft Steel Server
Fans whir’n
Six speakers
Bump’n out
Large candle
Flicker’n
Finn attached to the 42U
Stained by thousands of Miles of mountain
.
.
.
False Compliments
I hate most of all
Preschool
Proudly show’n art
A Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtle
The adult gave
High praises
Such that I became alerted
Skeptically
Look’n anew at the paper
I saw only
A Circle
& Squiggly lines
Putrid is the taste
When forced to swallow
Undeserved compliments
.
.
.