EXCRESCENCE: Haiti sampled after the hurricane
The sea retreated.
The retreating sea left leavings
of retreat that became a puppet
show of arms trade years later.
Guns and walkmen,
Jesus’ face knit into sweaters
and under the eyes
eye black with silver lettering that said:
Stakes are high. At the wake
the Preacher demanded a tenth of the cow
meat. At the dealer’s trial no one mentioned
the witness’ kidnapped children. Or
that the witness, one day, decided to miss
a step falling falling falling broken.
There are wig stores on the green, hair
springs back first—
its care, the weaving of it,
cell phone chargers next.
Theatre watchers from windows smell
the sea, see it finger shores,
see the mother of the dead witness,
hair newly plaited,
collecting shells to pay
the Preacher for the son
in the Jesus sweater found
between the walls
of the dealer’s house.