Rum and Tobacco

how many shores
can one
arrive and depart from
perhaps we leave a root

a critical part of ourselves there
in that village or barrio
where that one perfect mango ripened

where we danced and ate
lied and told truths 
with our open and closed mouths
with our entire bodies

a place
where those batás were pulled
tight tighter
they were twins from the same tree
that had been struck by Lightening

later 
when they were whored
Shango struck down that big Ras
chopping off his crown with his ose

Riru ebo ni i gne ni
airu ki gbe eyan