A visceral tribute to the millions of lives lost as a consequence of colonialism. The history of a 1960‘s war that should have been included in my elementary school education.

“All these words from the seller, but not one word from the sold. The Kings and Captains whose words moved ships. But not one word from the cargo. The thoughts of the “black ivory,‘ the ‘coin of Africa,‘ had no market value. Africa‘s ambassadors to the New World have come and worked and died, and left their spoor, but no recorded thought.”

“How many limbs God give de body so it kin be active?” “Dey say six; two arms two feet two eyes. I say dey cut off de feet, he got hands to ‘fend hisself. Dey cut off de hands he wiggle out de way when he see danger come. But when he lose dey eye, den he can‘t see nothin‘ come upon him. He finish. My boys is my feet. My daughter is my hands. My wife she my eyes. She left, Cudjo finish.”

“There is a loneliness that can be rocked. Arms crossed, knees drawn up; holding, holding on, this motion, unlike a ship‘s, smooths and contains the rocker. It‘s an inside kind — wrapped tight like skin. Then there is a loneliness that roams. No rocking can hold it down. It is alive, on its own. A dry and spreading thing that makes the sound of one‘s feet going seem to come from a far-off place.”

Gutted

Poetic articulation of how past experiences shape future relationships and actions.

“Junk science props up totalitarian regimes. And totalitarian regimes produce junk science.”