Friday, June 6, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Tati's Jujubey Lollipop Inn
_TATI’S JUJUBEY (1) LOLLIPOP INN_
“Well, all I knows is, dis is a damn shame after all; never thought it would happen at all, what says to be happening to yours truly, his immortal youthfulness; hell, this is surely a shock! Such an embarrassment! Never saw it coming at all; no siree, not in a million years; thought nothing like this could ever befall moi; who? Me? Never in a million millenniums would it happen; if you, anyone for that matter, had given even an inch of inkling that such a calamity could slap me so hard in de face without so much as a warning, I would have told you to ‘get the hell outta my face, you don’t know what you talking bout; you just jealous that’s all.
Time in and time out; days in and days to come, as yet; clocks which have ticked past the hour, and clocks with ticks, ticking, tick, tock, tocking along as we speak; grandma’s granddaddy’s grand clock to be ticking on with a wind, now and then.
No way would I have believed that such a pass could strike me down so much: Me with my proud ageless timeless beauty; how could such a fate descend on me without so much as a clue as to what’s awaiting in store for poor me.
Lord si ya mi Gad a wa dis done fall down pon me? Well bus mi pupa (2) shut! How could this ever happen? Where did you sneak in from all of a sudden, without as much as a warning? Tek me totally by surprise; never expect it one bit. Holy Jehosephat, a wey you jus come from all so quiet! So nondescript like, like de tief (3) in de night? I know I was wide awake, busy wid my business, day in and day out, night and day wid out a break, but only for a short wink and a shut eye nod, just a few snorts and cccccccc’s, sounding more like zzzzzzzz’ than ccccccc’s they were. .
But it seems to doesn’t matter one way or the other wedder (4) I pull all nighters, day in and day out; week in and week out; months even.
For as long as di body will hold out, or wedder I lay dis weary tired, carcass down to sleep by the light of the moon, full or crescent one; what the ???? does it matter! It all boil down to di same confounded ting (5); you damned if you do and you damned if you don’t do one goddam thing; eider way, when the moment in time comes; all you can see is dat damn number numbering pon di ‘sands of time,’ as it is said; nobody; no madam; no body, not even mi madda, (6) forget bout me fawda, (7), im was always sound asleep, even when im a drive eider (8) the Chevy Impala or di green Austin or di blue Ford Cortina station wagon. My God, you mean to tell me say not even Aba, mi grannie (9), dead and buried and gone; wha bout Ma Burt? Ms May our nurse, dead and gone all these years, been so long now, am surprised at my memory to be so intact, even at this time, after all the passing of time to remember my grandmother or Ms May.
It must be something serious for me recalling dem two lambs sleeping soundly in dem grave: Hell yes it is real serious. Very special indeed for me to call dem from dem rest, cause I got a beef wid em, because all de time dem been wid me and my sister and brother, I never hear dem mention a confounded ting bout dis at all at all; I wonder how come dis? Dem must have forgot to tell me what to expect; what lies ahead in waiting for me; dats de only explanation I can come up with to exonerate dem from dire neglect.
For not alerting me ahead of now about dis what I got here wid me today: Of all days why today? Why now? Why me? Of all poor innocent unfortunate simple me; never cannot hurt a fly; except, well one day so long ago, must have been ‘bout 10 years old; my brother and some of his playmates: My brother is four years younger than me even dem times; nothing change dere; an him and de friends of his mek catapults (sling shots), using abandoned car tubing for tautness/rigidity fastened to a perfectly formed Y limb of a virgin Eucalyptus branch; inflexible, green, fresh; its pent up juices congealed therein making for the perfect shot; hell of a weapon of mass destruction, so that, God help the poor little bird, the ‘Cling Cling’, ‘the starling’, ‘the Picharie’;
whichever one happen to simply fly by and make a noise to announce it’s stopping for a rest, just for a quick feed; a pick me up to catch de breath; only to be hunted down like a common criminal, shot at, stunned into oblivion as it falls from the tree limb, hurtling to the floor, its baby feathers breaking its fall as it flutters to the ground, light as the feather making up its persona.
The poor stupid innocent robin red breast seeing me aiming my sling shot half heartedly at her; seeing me aiming to take its life; not taking me seriously, since I don’t even know how to hold the catapult properly; but properly enough as to fire it and shoot the red breast robin in her breast craw (10); she poor thing couldn’t even bring her self to believe that I could shoot and kill her, as she looks with her little eyes winking and smiling at me, and me not smiling back, but dead serious to prove my place among these ‘real lads’, let go of the pebble from the catapult and smacked it right in the chest of the little robin red breast, as she, still in shock and disbelief that I could really take her innocent life, crumples to the earth, falling flat upon her back, her two little twigs of legs both clasped as if in a ‘comrades salute’ looks up in my face with her still wide opened dead eyes.
Maybe, even when dis event happened so long ago, that maybe, just maybe dis is my eternal and inevitable punishment, for such a dastardly act of murder against an innocent defenseless robin red breast: What other event in my short lengthy existence can I attribute to causing this tribulation to come upon me all of a sudden without so much as a warning sign? Averting me to one’s inevitable ‘rite of passage’; a fate that’s reserved for all beings, but that I still think I am exempt from as, as I have said before, me who is immortal or so I thought for as far back as I can recall having memory to think and remember; wow I still can’t get over this!
What a disaster! Dis is a shocker if anything is such! Still will never come to believe that this could have happened! Who? Me? No way Jose, impossible! You hear me! It is not even remotely probable what says possible; must be a mistake somewhere; some miscalculation in someone’s stocktaking computations; got to be an error in the numbers; hey check your watch again; go check your almanac! Where is the calendar! Gimme the calendar, please will you, if you don’t mind! Must be a mistake somewhere; don’t tell me dat I am wrong; dat I miscalculated and dat you are right on the money! Dat I cannot believe; will never accept not till my dying day; not a r…s bl..d cl..h (11); man you must be bugging out! Get the f..k outta here! You crazy; Now I know you bugging homeboy, you been drinking too much of dat home boy juice; smoking too much of dem blunts; listen mother f..k.r take a break from dem shits okay; give your brains a rest; let your mind get back to normal, den you can think straight alright!
You hear me honey? I know I ain’t
high; don’t touch the stuff really, not since I left college way over 35 years ago; don’t drink either; used to have some white or rose’ wine with meals now and then back in the days so long ago; haven’t touch any wine for ages; can’t stomach beer, makes me depressed: If a going to drink, or do drugs, I do it to get happy not sad; okay honey! So there you go; come on stop fronting! I am not playing around with you no more; let’s get serious for a change a’aight (12); Stop messing about with me; thought you were a friend, but you are just like the rest of them other pieces of jerks out there; full a pure krap! Man! Jive turkey! Dats what you are; a real honest to goodness joker; everything is a big goddam joke to you; never take a moment to be serious; anything for a laugh! Man later! A see you still want to screw round; had enough of you joking around for one night; ketch you later! Maybe you will be more reasonable, more serious manana; I got news for you c..k s..k.r you just wait till you get there; some one; some smart ass; some body mess you head up wid the nonsense you put over on me to night; see how you going like it; selfish; talk to you tomorrow when you are more sober; had a great night sleep, eat a decent meal; wash your ass properly, and can think straight and intelligently and hold a serious conversation without you smart aleck assumptions and accusations and claims; Mr know it all.”
“Hope you had a great night’s rest; good for you; cause I certainly spent the entire night watching the daylight dawning, thanks to you; hope you be in a better state of mind today, seeing that you slept like a baby last night”
“But as I was saying mi dear before I was so rudely interfered with; it is unfathomable to me that such a terrible ting could befall me so without any warning; I was just a teenager just yesterday; wow! It seems such like yesterday; ‘what de hell, where did the time go so fast?’ Can you tell me that? What de hell!
You know you are a vindictive person? Never thought of you as being such; where did the nice gentle caring sensitive youth go to? How come you become so mean and bad minded so? When did you get this way? I tell you, it can’t be; no it can’t; how could it be? You’ve got to be mistaken, okay! When was that? Was it not just now; no more than a week ago it seems, when me and you went by diesel coach, traveling first class at that: Lucky you, your father is the station master making it easy for us to travel first class and not have to pay a red penny; ain’t it great! Not smoozing wid all dem riff raffs holed up in coach class wid dem noisy pic a ninnies crying and slobbering all over, smelling of ‘d’o’; peeling dem orange with dem pen knife, each rind neatly separated from the skin with not a line out of place; Ms Constance, her head wrapped in bundles of burlap, a lead pencil sticking out of one joint, a neatly rolled Royal Blend cigarette parked on her ear; ‘slurppppppp tch tch tching sch sch sching, her lips, sucking up all de dripping juice from the succulent Ortinique, Valencia fruits; Mass Bertie; him sitting wid him corn pipe puffing balls of smoke; hands dem busy fanning away the stench of the thick smoke, blasting your nose apart; making its way quickly along the railway lines past Porus, Bog Walk, Chapelton, Four Path, Toll Gate, May Pen, Old Harbour, then Spanish Town and onto Kingstnn proper: Our final destination.
And us getting out of the diesel train, saying to one another ‘we gots to find somewhere to stay while we here in town;’ and you say, ‘I know a place along Molynes Rd and Harbour Street, up the road from Constant Spring Road, right by the corner of Chigafoot Lane:’ “
What place is that you talking ‘bout? Wat you talking ‘bout? Tought you didn’t know Kingston? You’ve been around, haven’t you Donovan? If I know the area you talking of, that’s where all dem notorious flop houses be; why you want to go there? Donovan Milton, is there something you not telling me? I am having to think more about you than what meets they eye, ‘cause you kind a sneaky; yeah you are; come, let’s go get the room squared; first things first; then roam the city we will. “
“And even with that, how we compromise and I let you talk me into staying at that flee infected stregge (13), infested joint; look how you even encourage me to go along with you to spend your and mine money, an’ you know we don’t have a lot to waste; but no! You choose to want to buy one of Madam Pearl Harbour’s whores; so thoughtful to you; let you bring your prized catch up to the room. You were just a squirty infant of 17; just move to town; you family living in the house provided for a small consideration, by the Jamaica Railway Corporation, for its station heads; and here we are, me and you, spending our first time alone together, far away from home, and mommy and daddy; such rebels! Such fun! Such a party animal! You with you baby fat, dimpled rumps hugging you batty, all 5’7” of you; your talcum scent auburn colored skin, smooth; such long fat calves; the hairy curls of your Aryan ancestry trickling alongside your legs, each one standing with its calf perfectly erect; asymmetrical; angled to your butt; as you turn your body round to face the piece of ass you choose to prove to me what ever you are trying to prove; as if I care! Ask me if I care one bit what you are? Who asked whom to elope with him for the long weekend? Telling your ma and pa you going to town to attend the Toots & The Maytels ska extravaganze, at the just now opening of the spanking new national stadium and convention centre? And who is it, tired and trying to get some sleep after a whole day of parading all over town, and there you are having this ???, stark naked as the day she born; and not doing nothing to get me going; and I am bored and yawning sneakily, asking you with your eyes locked into mine all the while, your slender pink tongue stationed around the rim of your lips, bathing them with the soft warm saliva gathering at the opening of your mouth; and you! All you doing with you whore all the while, when you know who you want: What you really want! But tek di long route round the bend to come up to me, after you done playing with your ???’s nipples, smacking her backside once or twice, as she cries out here and there when she hardly feel a thing; you palm hardly a touch her ass.”
“Ooooh paaapi! Oooooh paaapi! Beat me paaapi! Beat you little girl paaapi! You little girl’s been bad.’
“What an act dat! And all that for you wanting to pay hard to come by pocket money, just for to be smacking your harlot on her ass; all that for you to then tell her ‘tata’; opening the room door to send her on her way. Den look at the party me and you had all night long! Me and you by weself; you say it was you first time ‘busting your nut’ with a guy; that you been always wanting to see what the experience was like for ‘myself’; ‘all me a hear from my mates at school; at the matinee by the Odeon theatre on Saturdays, is ‘oh I balled de pum pum (14) last night; ‘man, I bruck dat fat ass chick, Collette; many times I shoot my load. I got to play catch up and go brag about my grabbing a whore when I came to town with you, so that I can have something to tell de boys next Saturday at the matinee, you know what dem say ‘bout you, an’ dey will say ugly stuff bout me, a’aight! So don’t tell nobody ‘bout me and you! A’aight rass man!’
‘Boy it sure feel good sticking my joint up you; so when you going to do me? Le me try! Come on P man, turn me over! Put it up me! Come on, please!’
“Ain’t got no oil to use with you; it going hurt, your first time and your muscles closed and tight to open; it going hurt like hell I tell you!“
‘Oh man go on, use your spit! Here (sputum)! Here, come now! My spit! Put it up dere! Let’s go; come onnn! You too slow! Yeah there you go; aaaaahhh uuuummmmh!’
“This the type honeymoon we have all dem times; now all of a sudden you want to dis me dirt like this! Man it’s not fair: And I tought I had you as my friend! Some friend you are, putting dis score card right in a mi face! You not right! You screwed up: That’s all’s got to say.”
“Well, I’ll be! Kiss mi mother’s grave. When did all dis tek place? How did the time just catch up with me so fast? Wasn’t it just yesterday!!! Wait a minute Don, how long ago was it we spent dat long weekend together? Oh, my! Oh, me oh my! Was it that long ago? Rass, the same year as our coming into our hell fire and brimstone manhood”
“But dat was in 1962; what you going on about? Donovan how old were you then? Do you remember? You don’t even remember that, do you! But I don’t forget! Now see here, 17 years old you was: Now you tell me, it is August 27th 2006, I was 18 at the time; if you add 18 plus all dem years up to now how much is that? Still can’t add up to all dem numbers, Milty.
Hey man, check it again; maybe you repeating numbers, adding dem over and over. A’iaight! Lets start again from scratch! Counting from 1962 to 2006 is 44 years; if you add 44 + 18 you come up with a total of 62.
Bloody hell! There’s got to be a mistake somewhere; it just can’t be so! What a bum rush! Dats a total smack down!
That’s how many years you been hanging around, you old geezer you!”
‘Yeah, I turn 61 November 13; what you a complain ‘bout?’
“Bummer Milton boy, you could have fooled me! Never even saw the times running by me so fast: It is so unbelievable!”
‘So what you got to bragadocia ‘bout Mr? You still older dan me.
You old fart; I’m still behind you; ha, ha, take dat!’
“Oh be quiet will you! Got to check the office of birth and death records; dey will tell me the truth, and a bet you dere is a mistake somewhere!”
‘Cheer up, old guy, suck this; you’ll feel young. Isn’t that what’s eating you? You old geezer! The only thing you can suck on, with you Seabond teeth, is TATI’S JUJUBEY pop: Here! Lick it!’
“WHATEVER!!!...
Curse its shriveled head!”
_______________________________________________-
LOCAL VERNACULAR & DEFINITION:
1.jujubey; fun place
2. pupa: papa
3. tief: thief
4. wedder: whether
5. madda: mother
6. ting: thing
7. fawda: father
8. eider: either
9. grannie: grand parent
10. craw: chest
11. r..s bld clh: local
curse words
12. a’aight: alright
13. stregge: loose female
14. pum pum: female
sex organ
“Well, all I knows is, dis is a damn shame after all; never thought it would happen at all, what says to be happening to yours truly, his immortal youthfulness; hell, this is surely a shock! Such an embarrassment! Never saw it coming at all; no siree, not in a million years; thought nothing like this could ever befall moi; who? Me? Never in a million millenniums would it happen; if you, anyone for that matter, had given even an inch of inkling that such a calamity could slap me so hard in de face without so much as a warning, I would have told you to ‘get the hell outta my face, you don’t know what you talking bout; you just jealous that’s all.
Time in and time out; days in and days to come, as yet; clocks which have ticked past the hour, and clocks with ticks, ticking, tick, tock, tocking along as we speak; grandma’s granddaddy’s grand clock to be ticking on with a wind, now and then.
No way would I have believed that such a pass could strike me down so much: Me with my proud ageless timeless beauty; how could such a fate descend on me without so much as a clue as to what’s awaiting in store for poor me.
Lord si ya mi Gad a wa dis done fall down pon me? Well bus mi pupa (2) shut! How could this ever happen? Where did you sneak in from all of a sudden, without as much as a warning? Tek me totally by surprise; never expect it one bit. Holy Jehosephat, a wey you jus come from all so quiet! So nondescript like, like de tief (3) in de night? I know I was wide awake, busy wid my business, day in and day out, night and day wid out a break, but only for a short wink and a shut eye nod, just a few snorts and cccccccc’s, sounding more like zzzzzzzz’ than ccccccc’s they were. .
But it seems to doesn’t matter one way or the other wedder (4) I pull all nighters, day in and day out; week in and week out; months even.
For as long as di body will hold out, or wedder I lay dis weary tired, carcass down to sleep by the light of the moon, full or crescent one; what the ???? does it matter! It all boil down to di same confounded ting (5); you damned if you do and you damned if you don’t do one goddam thing; eider way, when the moment in time comes; all you can see is dat damn number numbering pon di ‘sands of time,’ as it is said; nobody; no madam; no body, not even mi madda, (6) forget bout me fawda, (7), im was always sound asleep, even when im a drive eider (8) the Chevy Impala or di green Austin or di blue Ford Cortina station wagon. My God, you mean to tell me say not even Aba, mi grannie (9), dead and buried and gone; wha bout Ma Burt? Ms May our nurse, dead and gone all these years, been so long now, am surprised at my memory to be so intact, even at this time, after all the passing of time to remember my grandmother or Ms May.
It must be something serious for me recalling dem two lambs sleeping soundly in dem grave: Hell yes it is real serious. Very special indeed for me to call dem from dem rest, cause I got a beef wid em, because all de time dem been wid me and my sister and brother, I never hear dem mention a confounded ting bout dis at all at all; I wonder how come dis? Dem must have forgot to tell me what to expect; what lies ahead in waiting for me; dats de only explanation I can come up with to exonerate dem from dire neglect.
For not alerting me ahead of now about dis what I got here wid me today: Of all days why today? Why now? Why me? Of all poor innocent unfortunate simple me; never cannot hurt a fly; except, well one day so long ago, must have been ‘bout 10 years old; my brother and some of his playmates: My brother is four years younger than me even dem times; nothing change dere; an him and de friends of his mek catapults (sling shots), using abandoned car tubing for tautness/rigidity fastened to a perfectly formed Y limb of a virgin Eucalyptus branch; inflexible, green, fresh; its pent up juices congealed therein making for the perfect shot; hell of a weapon of mass destruction, so that, God help the poor little bird, the ‘Cling Cling’, ‘the starling’, ‘the Picharie’;
whichever one happen to simply fly by and make a noise to announce it’s stopping for a rest, just for a quick feed; a pick me up to catch de breath; only to be hunted down like a common criminal, shot at, stunned into oblivion as it falls from the tree limb, hurtling to the floor, its baby feathers breaking its fall as it flutters to the ground, light as the feather making up its persona.
The poor stupid innocent robin red breast seeing me aiming my sling shot half heartedly at her; seeing me aiming to take its life; not taking me seriously, since I don’t even know how to hold the catapult properly; but properly enough as to fire it and shoot the red breast robin in her breast craw (10); she poor thing couldn’t even bring her self to believe that I could shoot and kill her, as she looks with her little eyes winking and smiling at me, and me not smiling back, but dead serious to prove my place among these ‘real lads’, let go of the pebble from the catapult and smacked it right in the chest of the little robin red breast, as she, still in shock and disbelief that I could really take her innocent life, crumples to the earth, falling flat upon her back, her two little twigs of legs both clasped as if in a ‘comrades salute’ looks up in my face with her still wide opened dead eyes.
Maybe, even when dis event happened so long ago, that maybe, just maybe dis is my eternal and inevitable punishment, for such a dastardly act of murder against an innocent defenseless robin red breast: What other event in my short lengthy existence can I attribute to causing this tribulation to come upon me all of a sudden without so much as a warning sign? Averting me to one’s inevitable ‘rite of passage’; a fate that’s reserved for all beings, but that I still think I am exempt from as, as I have said before, me who is immortal or so I thought for as far back as I can recall having memory to think and remember; wow I still can’t get over this!
What a disaster! Dis is a shocker if anything is such! Still will never come to believe that this could have happened! Who? Me? No way Jose, impossible! You hear me! It is not even remotely probable what says possible; must be a mistake somewhere; some miscalculation in someone’s stocktaking computations; got to be an error in the numbers; hey check your watch again; go check your almanac! Where is the calendar! Gimme the calendar, please will you, if you don’t mind! Must be a mistake somewhere; don’t tell me dat I am wrong; dat I miscalculated and dat you are right on the money! Dat I cannot believe; will never accept not till my dying day; not a r…s bl..d cl..h (11); man you must be bugging out! Get the f..k outta here! You crazy; Now I know you bugging homeboy, you been drinking too much of dat home boy juice; smoking too much of dem blunts; listen mother f..k.r take a break from dem shits okay; give your brains a rest; let your mind get back to normal, den you can think straight alright!
You hear me honey? I know I ain’t
high; don’t touch the stuff really, not since I left college way over 35 years ago; don’t drink either; used to have some white or rose’ wine with meals now and then back in the days so long ago; haven’t touch any wine for ages; can’t stomach beer, makes me depressed: If a going to drink, or do drugs, I do it to get happy not sad; okay honey! So there you go; come on stop fronting! I am not playing around with you no more; let’s get serious for a change a’aight (12); Stop messing about with me; thought you were a friend, but you are just like the rest of them other pieces of jerks out there; full a pure krap! Man! Jive turkey! Dats what you are; a real honest to goodness joker; everything is a big goddam joke to you; never take a moment to be serious; anything for a laugh! Man later! A see you still want to screw round; had enough of you joking around for one night; ketch you later! Maybe you will be more reasonable, more serious manana; I got news for you c..k s..k.r you just wait till you get there; some one; some smart ass; some body mess you head up wid the nonsense you put over on me to night; see how you going like it; selfish; talk to you tomorrow when you are more sober; had a great night sleep, eat a decent meal; wash your ass properly, and can think straight and intelligently and hold a serious conversation without you smart aleck assumptions and accusations and claims; Mr know it all.”
“Hope you had a great night’s rest; good for you; cause I certainly spent the entire night watching the daylight dawning, thanks to you; hope you be in a better state of mind today, seeing that you slept like a baby last night”
“But as I was saying mi dear before I was so rudely interfered with; it is unfathomable to me that such a terrible ting could befall me so without any warning; I was just a teenager just yesterday; wow! It seems such like yesterday; ‘what de hell, where did the time go so fast?’ Can you tell me that? What de hell!
You know you are a vindictive person? Never thought of you as being such; where did the nice gentle caring sensitive youth go to? How come you become so mean and bad minded so? When did you get this way? I tell you, it can’t be; no it can’t; how could it be? You’ve got to be mistaken, okay! When was that? Was it not just now; no more than a week ago it seems, when me and you went by diesel coach, traveling first class at that: Lucky you, your father is the station master making it easy for us to travel first class and not have to pay a red penny; ain’t it great! Not smoozing wid all dem riff raffs holed up in coach class wid dem noisy pic a ninnies crying and slobbering all over, smelling of ‘d’o’; peeling dem orange with dem pen knife, each rind neatly separated from the skin with not a line out of place; Ms Constance, her head wrapped in bundles of burlap, a lead pencil sticking out of one joint, a neatly rolled Royal Blend cigarette parked on her ear; ‘slurppppppp tch tch tching sch sch sching, her lips, sucking up all de dripping juice from the succulent Ortinique, Valencia fruits; Mass Bertie; him sitting wid him corn pipe puffing balls of smoke; hands dem busy fanning away the stench of the thick smoke, blasting your nose apart; making its way quickly along the railway lines past Porus, Bog Walk, Chapelton, Four Path, Toll Gate, May Pen, Old Harbour, then Spanish Town and onto Kingstnn proper: Our final destination.
And us getting out of the diesel train, saying to one another ‘we gots to find somewhere to stay while we here in town;’ and you say, ‘I know a place along Molynes Rd and Harbour Street, up the road from Constant Spring Road, right by the corner of Chigafoot Lane:’ “
What place is that you talking ‘bout? Wat you talking ‘bout? Tought you didn’t know Kingston? You’ve been around, haven’t you Donovan? If I know the area you talking of, that’s where all dem notorious flop houses be; why you want to go there? Donovan Milton, is there something you not telling me? I am having to think more about you than what meets they eye, ‘cause you kind a sneaky; yeah you are; come, let’s go get the room squared; first things first; then roam the city we will. “
“And even with that, how we compromise and I let you talk me into staying at that flee infected stregge (13), infested joint; look how you even encourage me to go along with you to spend your and mine money, an’ you know we don’t have a lot to waste; but no! You choose to want to buy one of Madam Pearl Harbour’s whores; so thoughtful to you; let you bring your prized catch up to the room. You were just a squirty infant of 17; just move to town; you family living in the house provided for a small consideration, by the Jamaica Railway Corporation, for its station heads; and here we are, me and you, spending our first time alone together, far away from home, and mommy and daddy; such rebels! Such fun! Such a party animal! You with you baby fat, dimpled rumps hugging you batty, all 5’7” of you; your talcum scent auburn colored skin, smooth; such long fat calves; the hairy curls of your Aryan ancestry trickling alongside your legs, each one standing with its calf perfectly erect; asymmetrical; angled to your butt; as you turn your body round to face the piece of ass you choose to prove to me what ever you are trying to prove; as if I care! Ask me if I care one bit what you are? Who asked whom to elope with him for the long weekend? Telling your ma and pa you going to town to attend the Toots & The Maytels ska extravaganze, at the just now opening of the spanking new national stadium and convention centre? And who is it, tired and trying to get some sleep after a whole day of parading all over town, and there you are having this ???, stark naked as the day she born; and not doing nothing to get me going; and I am bored and yawning sneakily, asking you with your eyes locked into mine all the while, your slender pink tongue stationed around the rim of your lips, bathing them with the soft warm saliva gathering at the opening of your mouth; and you! All you doing with you whore all the while, when you know who you want: What you really want! But tek di long route round the bend to come up to me, after you done playing with your ???’s nipples, smacking her backside once or twice, as she cries out here and there when she hardly feel a thing; you palm hardly a touch her ass.”
“Ooooh paaapi! Oooooh paaapi! Beat me paaapi! Beat you little girl paaapi! You little girl’s been bad.’
“What an act dat! And all that for you wanting to pay hard to come by pocket money, just for to be smacking your harlot on her ass; all that for you to then tell her ‘tata’; opening the room door to send her on her way. Den look at the party me and you had all night long! Me and you by weself; you say it was you first time ‘busting your nut’ with a guy; that you been always wanting to see what the experience was like for ‘myself’; ‘all me a hear from my mates at school; at the matinee by the Odeon theatre on Saturdays, is ‘oh I balled de pum pum (14) last night; ‘man, I bruck dat fat ass chick, Collette; many times I shoot my load. I got to play catch up and go brag about my grabbing a whore when I came to town with you, so that I can have something to tell de boys next Saturday at the matinee, you know what dem say ‘bout you, an’ dey will say ugly stuff bout me, a’aight! So don’t tell nobody ‘bout me and you! A’aight rass man!’
‘Boy it sure feel good sticking my joint up you; so when you going to do me? Le me try! Come on P man, turn me over! Put it up me! Come on, please!’
“Ain’t got no oil to use with you; it going hurt, your first time and your muscles closed and tight to open; it going hurt like hell I tell you!“
‘Oh man go on, use your spit! Here (sputum)! Here, come now! My spit! Put it up dere! Let’s go; come onnn! You too slow! Yeah there you go; aaaaahhh uuuummmmh!’
“This the type honeymoon we have all dem times; now all of a sudden you want to dis me dirt like this! Man it’s not fair: And I tought I had you as my friend! Some friend you are, putting dis score card right in a mi face! You not right! You screwed up: That’s all’s got to say.”
“Well, I’ll be! Kiss mi mother’s grave. When did all dis tek place? How did the time just catch up with me so fast? Wasn’t it just yesterday!!! Wait a minute Don, how long ago was it we spent dat long weekend together? Oh, my! Oh, me oh my! Was it that long ago? Rass, the same year as our coming into our hell fire and brimstone manhood”
“But dat was in 1962; what you going on about? Donovan how old were you then? Do you remember? You don’t even remember that, do you! But I don’t forget! Now see here, 17 years old you was: Now you tell me, it is August 27th 2006, I was 18 at the time; if you add 18 plus all dem years up to now how much is that? Still can’t add up to all dem numbers, Milty.
Hey man, check it again; maybe you repeating numbers, adding dem over and over. A’iaight! Lets start again from scratch! Counting from 1962 to 2006 is 44 years; if you add 44 + 18 you come up with a total of 62.
Bloody hell! There’s got to be a mistake somewhere; it just can’t be so! What a bum rush! Dats a total smack down!
That’s how many years you been hanging around, you old geezer you!”
‘Yeah, I turn 61 November 13; what you a complain ‘bout?’
“Bummer Milton boy, you could have fooled me! Never even saw the times running by me so fast: It is so unbelievable!”
‘So what you got to bragadocia ‘bout Mr? You still older dan me.
You old fart; I’m still behind you; ha, ha, take dat!’
“Oh be quiet will you! Got to check the office of birth and death records; dey will tell me the truth, and a bet you dere is a mistake somewhere!”
‘Cheer up, old guy, suck this; you’ll feel young. Isn’t that what’s eating you? You old geezer! The only thing you can suck on, with you Seabond teeth, is TATI’S JUJUBEY pop: Here! Lick it!’
“WHATEVER!!!...
Curse its shriveled head!”
_______________________________________________-
LOCAL VERNACULAR & DEFINITION:
1.jujubey; fun place
2. pupa: papa
3. tief: thief
4. wedder: whether
5. madda: mother
6. ting: thing
7. fawda: father
8. eider: either
9. grannie: grand parent
10. craw: chest
11. r..s bld clh: local
curse words
12. a’aight: alright
13. stregge: loose female
14. pum pum: female
sex organ
Sunday, February 24, 2008
STEVE ADAM
The sub-frozen tundra cast its repressed severity
radiantly over its Lambeau Field memoirs, chiming
breathless dreams from the abyss of the assembled
molecules, busy rustling heavily gloved hands together, their
faces masked surreptitiously beneath knitted hooded helmets: Beards, ears,
eyes, mouths, nasal drips, noses, salivate lips, stitched coaxingly together,
cleave inseparably to skins made to stick fast; icicle particles proliferate:
Plaxico Burress in pirouette precision; team mate, Manning,
strutting the pas de dieu, seethes at opposing phenom, Brett Favre, fleshing
gritted resolves, spanking ferociously Al Harris’s styrofoam
challenges, determined concertedly to freeze these giants in their sisyphesian
goal, with a packer’s adieu:
Daddy Adam swivels olives impaled on sticks, among home town heroes,
Abe, Aaron, Dave, Esau, Jake, Josh, Noah; chips, chugs, mugs,
nuts with locust licorice, etc., enjoy an event’s festal foray, warming
frozen fans; invading nomads convening for a
faux pas, cheering the homeboy giant challengers:
Daddy Adam teases martinis! Wasted Packers tackle attackers, the
bottom of Adam’s aperitif, their icy field
Alpha honeys, beta wives, escorts, girlfriends, mamas, sweethearts; accomp-
lices; gallivanting gals; portraits painted on an Hieronymos Bosch’s like
“Garden of Delights” canvas, abet Mother Eve; her self-claimed ‘hostess
cup-cake’ sweetness, the ‘apple’ of Daddy Adam’s adoration;
himself, haughtily engaged with peers under the shade of an overheated
conduit down in the bleachers section of the Green Bay field….,
“Here, Daddy! Munch on a talon; tamed for you!
Makes this freeze for all warm you: Having a good time pops?”
“Ta, Ma! Hey guys! Listen up!” Daddy Adam shouts his boisterous hoody
boys, imbibing transcontinental six pacs of native Cana Manishewitz, Eden Lager,
Ewe 666 Ale, Galilean Comforts, Gommaroh Stout, Porkslap Pale Ale, Prophet
Daniels:
You name it; spirits fizzing freely, melts one’s jugular.
Interrupting again, Daddy Adam shouts, “Hey guys listen up; hush for a few!”
“When your kids and their kids learn history; what we do for fun; how our
boy, Steve Adam, for one, exhales; how we strut
the wild side; chilling; here’s how he, his mates, Ishmael, Isaac, Joseph,
for instance, tell it…
Mama, where’s our boy, anyway? Stevie, where are you kiddo?”
“Yow daddy, don’t really know; Steve’s
maybe down in the pit somewhere!
Steve honey! Helloooo Steve! Steeeevey! Where did that boy disappear to?”
Mother Eve, exasperated & tired in her state, shrugs her droopy shoulders,
indifferently:
Meanwhile, down in the dugout, buried below the frigid bowels of the stadium’s
subterrenean conundrum, ammonia, body sweat, urea; odors, smells, bulging
muscular biceps, stalwart spandex veined triceps, filter erogenous steam oozing from
armpits, crotches, foreheads, mouths, nostrils, pores:
Steve Adam is elementary here;
smiles astygmatize his blue, green, (this is termed ‘hazel’, I think) eyes, revolving in
their orbits, contrite from basting in pureed spirituals; eponymous potentates in an
imaginary carnage dedicated to another’s elimination.
“Honey, he’s your son alright! Just like papa! Sure don’t take after his mother, that’s
for sure! You know what they say Father ‘bout them silent ones’; what they say again? Oh, yeah, ‘runs deep’; should’ve a girl like me this round!”
“For your sake ma, (hiccup), hope so!” Daddy Adam’s Porkslap breath belches, en-
couragingly.
, ,
The sub-frozen tundra cast its repressed severity
radiantly over its Lambeau Field memoirs, chiming
breathless dreams from the abyss of the assembled
molecules, busy rustling heavily gloved hands together, their
faces masked surreptitiously beneath knitted hooded helmets: Beards, ears,
eyes, mouths, nasal drips, noses, salivate lips, stitched coaxingly together,
cleave inseparably to skins made to stick fast; icicle particles proliferate:
Plaxico Burress in pirouette precision; team mate, Manning,
strutting the pas de dieu, seethes at opposing phenom, Brett Favre, fleshing
gritted resolves, spanking ferociously Al Harris’s styrofoam
challenges, determined concertedly to freeze these giants in their sisyphesian
goal, with a packer’s adieu:
Daddy Adam swivels olives impaled on sticks, among home town heroes,
Abe, Aaron, Dave, Esau, Jake, Josh, Noah; chips, chugs, mugs,
nuts with locust licorice, etc., enjoy an event’s festal foray, warming
frozen fans; invading nomads convening for a
faux pas, cheering the homeboy giant challengers:
Daddy Adam teases martinis! Wasted Packers tackle attackers, the
bottom of Adam’s aperitif, their icy field
Alpha honeys, beta wives, escorts, girlfriends, mamas, sweethearts; accomp-
lices; gallivanting gals; portraits painted on an Hieronymos Bosch’s like
“Garden of Delights” canvas, abet Mother Eve; her self-claimed ‘hostess
cup-cake’ sweetness, the ‘apple’ of Daddy Adam’s adoration;
himself, haughtily engaged with peers under the shade of an overheated
conduit down in the bleachers section of the Green Bay field….,
“Here, Daddy! Munch on a talon; tamed for you!
Makes this freeze for all warm you: Having a good time pops?”
“Ta, Ma! Hey guys! Listen up!” Daddy Adam shouts his boisterous hoody
boys, imbibing transcontinental six pacs of native Cana Manishewitz, Eden Lager,
Ewe 666 Ale, Galilean Comforts, Gommaroh Stout, Porkslap Pale Ale, Prophet
Daniels:
You name it; spirits fizzing freely, melts one’s jugular.
Interrupting again, Daddy Adam shouts, “Hey guys listen up; hush for a few!”
“When your kids and their kids learn history; what we do for fun; how our
boy, Steve Adam, for one, exhales; how we strut
the wild side; chilling; here’s how he, his mates, Ishmael, Isaac, Joseph,
for instance, tell it…
Mama, where’s our boy, anyway? Stevie, where are you kiddo?”
“Yow daddy, don’t really know; Steve’s
maybe down in the pit somewhere!
Steve honey! Helloooo Steve! Steeeevey! Where did that boy disappear to?”
Mother Eve, exasperated & tired in her state, shrugs her droopy shoulders,
indifferently:
Meanwhile, down in the dugout, buried below the frigid bowels of the stadium’s
subterrenean conundrum, ammonia, body sweat, urea; odors, smells, bulging
muscular biceps, stalwart spandex veined triceps, filter erogenous steam oozing from
armpits, crotches, foreheads, mouths, nostrils, pores:
Steve Adam is elementary here;
smiles astygmatize his blue, green, (this is termed ‘hazel’, I think) eyes, revolving in
their orbits, contrite from basting in pureed spirituals; eponymous potentates in an
imaginary carnage dedicated to another’s elimination.
“Honey, he’s your son alright! Just like papa! Sure don’t take after his mother, that’s
for sure! You know what they say Father ‘bout them silent ones’; what they say again? Oh, yeah, ‘runs deep’; should’ve a girl like me this round!”
“For your sake ma, (hiccup), hope so!” Daddy Adam’s Porkslap breath belches, en-
couragingly.
, ,
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