OL'HIGUE by Mark McWatt

Produced by Barracks Entertainment, CSEC Poetry Made Easy Ol' Higue by Mark McWatt You think I like all this stupidnessgallivanting all night without skin Burning myself out like cane –fire To frighten the foolish? And for what? A few drops of baby blood? You think I wouldn’t rather take my blood seasoned in fat black-pudding, like everyone else? And don’t even talk ‘bout the pain of salt And having to bend these old bones down To count a thousand grains of rice If only babies didn’t smell so nice! And if I could only stop Hearing the soft, soft call Of that pure blood running in new veins, Singing the sweet song of life Tempting an old, dry-up woman who been Holding her final note for years, Afraid of the dying hum… Then again, if I didn’t fly and come to that fresh pulse in the middle of the night, how would you, mother, name your ancient dread, And who to blame for the murder inside your head…? Believe me – As long as it have women giving birth A poor ol’ higue like me can never dead.