Lorna Goodison, Poet Laureate, Jamaica



my great-grandmother was a guinea woman wide is starting to call in a number of face to could see behind her or cheeks dusted with a fine Russian jet big words and each 20 racism great-grandmother's wasteland by the span of a head manhunt and to a slender and so Allah contains dog with a guinea ones as a no quick walk and when she posed or gaze will look to see or profile fired like some offers impression on a guinea coin from royal memory now it seems her fate was uncommon that unfathomable seeds from a great-grandmother caught the eye of a sailor ship sail without him from losing our book great-grandmother's royal scent of cinnamon and scallions through the sale of the streets of Africa and the evidence is my blue egg grandmother first mulatto take me to backwards household and coffee with his name and the forbade great-grandmother's guinea woman presence they wash to where scent of cinnamon and scallions to control the child until a walk and they called her uprisings rebellions but great-grandmother I see or features blood dark appearing in the children of each new breeding and high yellow brown it is not window listen children if your great-grandmother stop put afternoon it's so lovely to be here [Applause]

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