Brochure
The food-stained,
wrinkled brochure I hold
smells of
curry although rained on and dried.
It sells
tropical getaways and skiing holidays.
On the cover,
a man is looking
through a
window at fat-leaved almond trees.
Bunched
seaside grapes are green-going-on-purple.
Trees shade suntan-lotioned
tourists.
Beyond, seagulls
dive and splash.
Blue ocean
sparkles in the sun.
I never wake
up and smell roses
where I sit on
a discarded drum
between
scavenging and sorting.
I view an
endless sea of trash.
Aluminum glints
when
crossing paths
with sunrays.
A mountain of
metal, tins and tires rises
behind a fishless
river choked with floating plastic.
No one sells
these scenes.
My slice of
life is not palatable.
It will never
grace a brochure’s cover.
© Althea Romeo-Mark 2016
Poverty
De sun come,
idle over de mountain,
remove de shadow
from de tree limbs,
reveal de pickinagers*
playin’ in de mud,
an’ eatin’ dirt
like is ducana*
an’ saltfish,
an’ dey wishin’
dat de dirt stains
wus grease stains.
Althea Romeo-Mark, Palaver, Downtown Poets Coop, New York,
1978
*Pickinager-small children
*Ducana Antigua/Barbuda
dish made of sweet potato, plantain and coconut,etc. wrapped in a banana leaf
and cooked.
 |
ducana  |
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