The Age of Phillis. Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

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СКАЧАТЬ factories that dotted

      the coasts: Saint-Louis, Gorée,

      Iles de Los, Cape Mount,

      Sestos, Grand Bassam,

      Axim, Cape Three Points.

      The Zong stopped at

      Cape Coast, then

      Anomaboe and Sao Tomé,

      named for the doubting

      man to whom Jesus

      revealed himself.

      The Zong took on four

      hundred and forty-two

      captives, a tight pack,

      and by the time

      the ship left for open

      water, sixty-two

      of those Africans had died.

      The vessel’s doctor

      would speak of the bloody

      flux of the bowels.

      It wasn’t his fault

      that a godly act crawled

      through the mouth and down,

      but the doctor was unclear

      about the sadness

      taking over the cargo.

      Despair was a deity

      calling for tribute, and ships

      would give this sad praise:

      the Adventurer, the Africa,

      the Black Joke, the City of London,

      the Eagle, the Elizabeth,

      the Greyhound, the Hawk,

      the Industrious Bee,

      the Nancy, the Polly,

      the New Britannia,

      the Thomas, the Triumph,

      the True Blue Unity.

      The Zong sailed West, and some

      say, one hundred

      thirty-two of the enslaved

      were disposed of.

      And some say, one hundred

      fifty were disposed of.

      And some say, one hundred

      eighty were disposed of,

      that in the night,

      the ship’s crew pushed Africans

      through a window, because drinking

      water was running too low.

      The sailors kept on the chains

      and the Africans quickly sank

      into water. The killing took

      three days—

      back in Liverpool, the owners

      of The Zong were dismayed

      when news of their lost cargo

      found them in that city

      of coffeehouses,

      theatres, libraries,

      a ladies’ walk, and naturally,

      slave trading.

      The owners were seized

      by an idea: they decided to sue

      their insurance company.

      They wanted to be reimbursed

      for the value of the chained,

      African dead: there was a trial,

      and then, another,

      and the truth finally

      wagged its song:

      on the night of the second day

      that the crew of The Zong

      pushed Africans into the sea,

      a heavy rain had fallen.

      There was no shortage

      of water,

      not anymore,

      but even so,

      the crew of The Zong

      drowned a third batch

      of Africans, and then,

      the ship sailed on its way.

      That’s all.

      The ship sailed on its way.

      No prayers.

      The ship sailed on its way.

      No funerals.

       The ship sailed on its way.—

      Here is where I leave

      those sailors and owners,

      and you can forget

      about a happy ending.

      I know you want one,

      twenty-first-century-style.

      A soundtrack. Some ruffled

      costumes. An uprising,

      since there were plenty

      of those, the cutting

      open of white sailors

      and captains of ships,

      such as the mutinies

      on СКАЧАТЬ