Herded to a Tannery in Marrakech

Bunches of mint
Sink the stink

He pokes us through
Dung and blood

To hanging skins
Drenched in dye  

We pay him to
Hide that smell

In a cool blue
Leather bag.

My first taste of Africa, starting at the tip.

The world is so loud at night

I hear Morocco pulsing

In my feet and Hong Kong

Twinkling in my throat

 

Montserratian and Barbadian lapping

Ears over to New Orleans,

Rolling down to Acapulco

 

Further down Columbian greens

That heard my father’s

First word to the world

 

Now I’m flying high above

The deep giant squids and

Corals, fighting and fading into blue

 

Back to Europe, Corfu

Familiar pieces of the jig saw puzzle

Curling at the edges, many missing

 

Do of it what can be done

With what is left, before

Some breeze, dog or toddler gusts it apart, unthinking.