I Like Cooking, But I Think Someone

The Past Is A Room Full Of Baggage And Rubbish And Sometimes Things That Are Of Use, But If They Are Of Real Use, I Have Kept Them.

This Naming Of Things Is So Crucial To Possession - A Spiritual Padlock With The Key Thrown Irretrievably Away - That It Is A Murder, An Erasing, And It Is Not Surprising That When People Have Felt Themselves Prey To It (conquest), Among Their First Acts Of Liberation Is To Change Their Names.

I Wrote Home To Say How Lovely Everything Was, And I Used Flourishing Words And Phrases, As If I Were Living Life In A Greeting Card - The Kind That Has A Satin Ribbon On It, And Quilted Hearts And Roses, And Is Expected To Be So Precious To The Person Receiving It That The Manufacturer Has Placed A Leaf Of Plastic On The Front To Protect It.

In The Place I Am From ... A Grave Is Topped Off With A Huge Mound Of Loose Earth - Carelessly, As If Piled Up In Child's Play, Not Serious At All - Because Death Is Just Another Way Of Being, And The Dead Will Not Stay Put, And Sometimes The Actions Of The Dead Are More Significant, More Profound, Than Their Actions In Life, And No Structure Of Concrete Or Stone Can Contain Them.

I Come From The Small Island Of Antigua And I Always Wanted To Write; I Just Didn't Know That It Was Possible.