Place of Refuge

Jamaica Gleaner - - ARTS & EDUCATION - – Jomo Mckoy

In the bar is where I seek refuge They are play­ing Den­nis Brown on the juke box It seems like a step into the an­cient The mix­ture of rum and milk warms my throat The smell of fresh mar­i­juana burn­ing clears the stuffi­ness in my nos­trils I rock slowly to the beat I am be­gin­ning to feel mel­low I am obliv­i­ous to the bod­ies around me It has been a rough three weeks Teach­ers drop­ping like mos­qui­toes ex­posed to the black coil I won­der if it was be­cause of high lev­els of stress in their lives I won­der if ad­di­tional bur­dens thrust upon them en­com­passed their minds I won­der if the low wages they re­ceive just frus­trated them to give up and die Ev­ery­day they come to work with smiles man­dated with the re­spon­si­bil­ity to shape lives But their strug­gle is ex­tra­or­di­nary only a psy­chi­a­trist can ex­plain their com­pli­cated minds The skill of par­ent­ing lost in the Golden age The ma­jor­ity of the masses blam­ing teach­ers for their chil­dren's fail­ure Some don't even know the sub­jects their chil­dren do The only time they are seen is when there is a con­flict with the child at school I won­der if those driv­ing the SUVs care about us I guess I could an­swer with the ob­vi­ous I en­joy a drink from time to time in the com­pany of friends It clears my thoughts and pre­pares me for the gloomy days ahead

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