Fire from the light post fills the sky.

Our homes sink into the primordial pitch,

the signal of summer.

 

This mish-mash of chipped concrete,

rough wrought iron railings and crumbling

drywall made into unwanted guests houses

becomes our circus.

 

He the acrobat, she the daredevil, they the

contortionists and clowns. The animals

at war in the distance.

 

Gravity’s heavy hand gripped firmly my elegance

my eloquence leaving me the ringmaster, tamer of lions,

starter of games.

 

Two eyes always closed and searching.

Two eyes always open to discovery.

 

Dancing along the sides of crowded buildings

swinging in our primal glee. Moving from floor to floor,

hand over hand, weight resting on corroded dreams;

the residue of hope and handholds.

 

A slip into the beckoning darkness offers up a squeal of delight

amidst the clamouring for safety, fingers to lips shushing,

as we continuously trod on our parent’s graves.

 

And in this we found our balance, tightrope walkers tempting

the fate of concrete future. Pole outstretched as knights lance,

defending against the whims of the breeze.

…

Jamel Hall is a writer, curator, event organizer and freelance everything else living and working in Kingston, Jamaica. His poetry focuses on the small, complex yet common stories that make up human existence. His poem Clash will be published by Uk Journal Ink Sweat and Tears on October 13, 2018.