Nobody Thinks With Their Liver

It was not something well foreseen

nor thought delivered when with

the contents of this message

came the delayed reprisal

of a ghost, stating:

Please. Return. To sender.

Nobody thinks with their liver.

Any organ would feign disease

or adopt suitable stomach

to tout the claims of such

miscommunication.

A laugh is best met unexpected.

The peak of a haunted mouth

seething

from behind

clouded nightly libation.

The work of ungodly spirits

whisked away by rum distant ships.

The short end of her untimely esophagus

bled my beheaded name

on the master’s sordid whip.

The vestigial intoxication

of overture;

they forgot me

in the drunk bowels of the dead

risked with

long pale turgid dilemma

in coherence of breath, and love, and ribs, and lungs and noses.

Memory was tended to our skeletal curricula.

We who were always possessed

upon the indignancy of foreseen insolvency.

The ghastly clandestine

of the missing negro birth.

Alawo na, ne te femi. Alas,

nobody hires ghosts.

Kwasi Shade is an Auteur Sociologist interested in representing the true myriad of Caribbean dichotomies in their stories and testing the parameters of Creole dialect vernacular. They are interested in communicating the Carnival Aesthetic.

Their poetry, short stories and drawings have appeared in Pree Lit, Moko Magazine, Enby Magazine, Tamarind, Pinkwashed zine, Prismatica, and Culturego Magazine. 

They were a 2010 Trinidad and Tobago film festival Ident award recipient. In their spare time they sell pelau crackers, mango chips and RumChow. They are also known as 'A Rainy Weather' the Jab Griot, a carnival character who sings House Rapso and New Wave Kaiso.