after Roland “Ras Lepke” Benjamin
Tek-don ya wariishii
an mek ya cutlas
tun painta bruum
se to di Taimz
stap! Kom a-
Lepkii bakdaam
an ya gon ameez fa sii
iz fruut iz flowa iz tii-
bush laik kyur-fu-aal
sep dem wa hed dun-na-gud
iz na evriibadii kud maad
bo dem-a-sheer-out
mental sortifiikeet laik tisyuu.
Mi chail wii an mii self tuu.
Iz a fain maadnis, laik
Juulyun wa kal di flim.
Mi nah gon mad nou
from di duu-duu—Mi
baazadii baad na schuupidii!
Bong fa liv an go we
waan djunkii
jombii juuka/maruun
fa ded:
laif
bush
todee.
Farm/Backdam/To the Tiller
Take off your warishi
and into broom
turn your sword
serve your injunction on
History! Enter
Lepke’s farm
and be amazed with
fruit and flowers and tea-
bush like cure-for-all
except madness
isn’t for everybody
yet they’re handing out
mental certificates like tissue.
Me too us too my child too.
A fine madness, like the
picture, Julian would say.
So I ain’t gonna go mad
over that shit now—I’m
insane not stupid!
Bound to live and die
as fiend
soul rebel/maroon
for death:
life’s
balm
today.