Skank v. (t)

Skank v. (t)

Skank v. (t)

London is the place, he sings
into the history books of
Blackness in these Isles;
contrived footage of a Calypso-
nian improvising an entrance
to the blessed Motherland.
After, reels of Blues dance:
black and white couples,
backs bent, elbows raised.
Establishment looks askance
at syncopated movement,
jerking like the spirit’s taken.
Glance through three score
and ten years past this point;
contrived reframing carries
in the knees. And we can’t
seem to step past this sinking
shipwreck tale, still framing
us off-beat; beaten; swept in
on a broken wave.