“Yes, ih gawn, gawn foreva in a promis land”
Mr. Wilfred Peters

The voice of the king of boom
and chime, Mista Peetaz, booms 

from the parched throats of his
Kriol ancestor geniuses, who sang
journey songs of booming, becoming,
blasting, rattling coming from dense 
forests of logwoods

burning a painful passage of
songs played in the lining of 
accordion stomach

a brukdown bubbling in
acid reflux, stirring up
melodies of mahogany cutters
sweating and breaking steel
in their creation of 

rhythms of ringing dingaling bells,
swinging windbox reeds,
knocking and scratching 
donkey jawbones, mallet
booming drum, and chiming 

dancing bodies in interior camps
of mahogany forests.