BUDDHA

BUDDHA

BUDDHA

my father has four flags planted at the side of his house.
           secret colours.
he would not name them.
he say he been to china, see buddha sit on a throne,
he in a group looking up : at buddha.
he say buddha take a chillum from his waistband, lit it
           and suckt it.
then the pipe pass around everyone in the circle.
           buddha call - “al    -     bot!”
an’ albert had to pass between guards on both sides had swords
           and kneel down.
an’ buddha put a bead necklace round his neck and say,
           “i give you gift, you give no one.”
he say in the spirit world everything have life,
           he say he speaks to trees and animals,
say he seen jumbie with caduceus upon dem head,
say he been to the bottom of the sea/been standing on the guinea coast
and two african man come out of the sea and say,
           “ai you, you eh see you naked?”
and they took him by both hands and into the water
           and washed him.
then give him a gown - half yellow half brown – an’ one say
“let this be your shield, this word be your sword”
and with this they transferred secret syllables to his ear.
he say then one take a dagger
           an’ chook ’im in he waist/but the blade
would not penetrate the gown. he say, 
           “boy sometimes I jus’ drink two guinness,
go kick back an’ meditate. when I ketch myself i find myself
in ethiopia someway.”
and then he shows me the necklace
           between his shirt.

my father stands, fixes his brim – pours cold coffee dripping in the calabash root
and leaves/uphill to bathe
in cold water
but falls asleep face down in his bachelor bed, still in his string vest,
drawers and argyle socks, cradling a bottle of duty free rum

and the sea                                                        blows up
from the horizon