-My lady, why you chupsing?
When you does come hey,
You gotta mek up you min’
‘bout two tings:
wait or guh long.
-Private pharmacy? If dah suit you.
True you ain’ gotta wait;
yuh might gotta pay, doh.
Evahting bout money, money, money, man.
Anyhow, I got time.
Lathe and saw put down evah since.
Line real long, yuh
but um is gob’ment.
Wuh yuh expec’?
Don’ vote fuh a fella!
Dif’rent letter; same shite!
Dem is drink up wid one annuda,
An’ laugh bad at we.
You tink dey ceh bout we waitin’ hey?
Wait! A nex’ one gone lunch?
Black people, boy.
Treat duh own scruffy, scruffy, scruffy.
Dah is why wunna cyan’ get nuh farther.
If dese duh white people, we wuh get dispatch evah since.
-Obama? I like he real bad but you cyan’ see
he half a white man, anyhow?
Boun’ tuh get t’rough.
-No. I does do evah’ting fuh muhself.
My daughta’ gone tuh Amurica,
An’ de gran’? Plain wufless.
She mudda really try wih she doh,
But dis drug ting, man!
Got she grip up like ah octopus,
I de see shite in dis life but…
-Guh ‘round, guh round, man!
…but not like dah.
I gih she food, if she hungry,
But she cyan’ sleep at me; I sorry.
Wuh tek up me tablets (I waitin’ hey suh long fuh!) an’ all.
-Wait…dah woman en know
you’s tuh wait like de restah we?
Wey de fuck she tink she gine?
…Yes darlin’; de line start back dey
Behind dat red girl…
…matter ah fac’, I nuses tuh drink Cockspur an’ smoke hard.
But I done wid dah…
…buyin’ roun’s too expensive, boh.
Sleep nex’ tuh me
Com-fiteble evah’ night, too:
Me King James Bible.
-Wait! She ain’ know you is tuh say, “Mornin’”?
Young people, boy.
An’ where she gine wid all she stomach at de door?
-Wuh? I aright.
Done widdout woman fuh 32 years.
Muh mudda learn me to do fuh muhself.
I does cook, clean, wash evahting, bohsie.
-Hungry? When I reach home.
Got me mauby hey, so I don’ fall down wid bad feels.
Fas’ food, killin’ out de yout.
Like dey ain’ know dah tek de lead out ya pencil.
-Woman? No soul!
wid anudda man.
like she addicted to he doggie.
Believe I nuses tuh gih she muh pay packet
when de week come?
Ceh ‘bout she?
It duh October t’ird, 1972.
Well, I nex’…
(Blasted gob’ment tiefs)
You ain’ know we pay fuh dis out we taxes?
I done mek up me min’
tuh wait hey fuh de lil’ pressure med’cine,
an’ it ready…
Tekking yuh time ain’t laziness, Miss Lady.
Sandra Sealy is an award-winning Barbadian writer of poetry, non-fiction (articles), fiction and drama with work published in the region and beyond. Her poem “Beauty Of The Bald Head” (1998), moved from page to stage in 2005, as a critically acclaimed CD spoken-word jazz single, to a music video premiering at the African & Caribbean Film Festival (Pelican Films). In addition, this former Cultural Officer, Literary Arts ,is a storyteller and creative writing tutor to several children who have won many NIFCA awards under her tutelage.
Her blog Seawoman’s Caribbean Writing Opps, which enjoys a good Google ranking, reaches several international writers.