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Inna Calabash

Lorna Goodison

Inna calabash
Inna calabash
tell them that the baby
that count in them census already
Inna calabash

One slave child
that count already
while it inside my belly
tell them that the baby
Inna calabash.

She show me
Quasheba show me one day
when I faint in the field of cane

When I cry and say
Why I can’t be like missus
siddown and plait sand
and throw stone after breeze.

Quasheba show me
how the calabash contained
for a slave gal like me
a little soft life and ease.

Pick a big calabash
bore both ends she say
shake out the gray pulp belly.
run a string through both ends
and tie it across your belly.

Drop the little shift frock
make outta Massa
coarse oznaburg cloth
over your calabash belly

Nothing Massa like
like more slave pickney
to grow into big slave
to serve slavery.

You will get rest
when you have belly.
When you rest enough
just take it off.

Say you fall
say you lose baby.
Quasheba show me
all I need to know.
Inna calabash.


Lorna Goodison

from To Us, All Flowers are Roses

Reproduced by kind permission of the publisher

Tags:

duplicity feminism fruit race slavery women
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Lorna Goodisonb.1947

Lorna Gaye Goodison was born in Kingston, Jamaica, one of nine siblings. As well as painting, she had also been writing poetry since her teenage years. In her twenties, she taught art and worked in advertising and public relations...
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