And when the only thing being raised from the dead is a stench,
we desire your help; we have opened a carrion-café,
offering you a buffet of our unburied. You who glide high and look low,
you who are not Gods but angels of the fetid flesh.
TOPHER ALLEN
The southern tip of the island curves like the hook of a walking stick. Our little district is nestled on the inside bend, not far from where the river mixes into the sea. From my backdoor, I can throw a stone and kill a fish.
Topher Allen At the age of 14, Dwayne ‘Gully Queen’ Jones was forced out of his family home by his father. In 2013, at 16, the young Jamaican was killed by a violent mob in Montego Bay, after he attended...
