The Age of Phillis. Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

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СКАЧАТЬ that brought on the captain’s grief, and not

      a common stool, or a slat back, arched or straight,

      the high exaggeration, or a Windsor, which is interesting,

      too, as the slender rods keep the spine from leaning

      far away from the center of gravity, a force that had been

      discovered a mere century and a half before, an infant next

      to the trade plied by this rich man who would grow

      richer and stay free [mercy] and find something as precious

      as sweet water next to endless salt that made him

      mourn the loss of the craftsman’s whistle, that moved him

      in his duty—and was he afraid, for had Smallpox run

      through his crew, the inevitability of insurrection [mercy]—

      forced him to touch the wood’s brown skin one last

      time [mercy] and pray for the sap’s essence soured next

      to the assumed-to-be-but-not-proven diseased

      Negro wench strapped to it, blindfolded and gagged

      [mercy], to inhale the stinking combination, a defilement

      of such delicate embroidery, brocade stained, the waste [mercy]—

      is that what made him throw so good a piece

      of furniture into the sea, and watch the sharks take

      her into their mouths?

       Second Question:

      Was that beautiful chair walnut or cherry

      and were there carvings along the arms

      and legs as well?

CATALOG: WATER

       The Zong, 1781–1783

      I know I’ll try your patience,

      as I have for several years:

      When I talk of slavery,

      you’re going to sigh

      impatiently: Not

      this black woman again.

      And I’m going to ask,

      do you go to church?

      In the Bible, there’s nothing

      that curses the holding of slaves—

      or servants as they are

      euphemistically named.

      There are displays:

      men with no say-so,

      eunuchs casually cut,

      children forced to play

      with others, hoping mates

      don’t fall down

      and hurt themselves,

      lest their slaves be blamed—

      women whose bodies

      are given to their masters,

      loam for foretold seed.

      Slavery’s in Genesis,

      Leviticus, Deuteronomy,

      Matthew, Ephesians,

      Colossians, Timothy,

      and Peter—

      and slavery’s in the U. S.

      Constitution, and in homes

      of Presidents: Washington,

      Jefferson, Madison, Monroe,

      Jackson, Tyler,

      Taylor, and Polk—

      slaves work for us now

      but I won’t upset you

      by talking about new slavery—

      what we eat and use today—

      I’ll simply pull you

      back three centuries

      to prophets blessing slave

      ships in God’s mighty name,

      to a trade for African

      merchants not yet

      collected into one tribe—

      not yet Negro or black,

      but members of separate villages,

      babel dust stuck to the sides

      of towers. Racial solidarity

      was not yet a thing—

      but discussing African slave

      trading might complicate your

      need for an easy story—

      and so, there once was

      a European ship called The Zong,

      purchased by a syndicate,

      a white legacy

      of fathers and sons,

      wealthy, sanguine heirs

      of patrilineal times.

      The Zong sailed down

      the side of West Africa,

      where ships’ captains thought

      the land spoke to them:

      We will gift you our insides.

      There were structures with slaves

      in dungeons and whites

      in clean quarters above—

      the castles, the forts,

СКАЧАТЬ