I come from borrowed names, given names, names of dis-possession
Hawker, Harris, Princess Margaret waving her white-gloved hand
from the motor cavalcade.
I come from faces, earth & sun faces, tamarind faces, watermelon teeth.
From hands: rough carpenter’s hands, smooth Nivea-creamed hands, blue-veined & cutexed, hands that reached for the cane.
I come from skin & bone, Portuguese skin, African bones, buried in forgotten oceans
from the ringing of bells, the clapping of hands
from foreday morning drums over a Pentecostal backyard
from cutlasses and ships
from red bauxite pyramids of barges
from that name, Captain, cutting through those rivers
they charted, navigated, christened, ‘Home'