She's a rare vase, out of a cat's reach, on its shelf. - Derek Walcott

and the frayed earth, crisscrossed like old bagasse, spring to a cushiony quilt of emerald grass, and who does sew and sow and patch the land?

History was fact,
History was a cannon, not a lizard; De Grasse

leaving Martinique, and Rodney crouching to act
in the right wind. Iounalo, my royal arse!
Hewanorra, my hole! Was the greatest battle

in naval history, which put the French to rout,
fought for a creature with a disposable tail
and elbows like a goalie?

The future happens. No matter how much we scream.