second home

second home

poem by kevanté ac cash

the street that reminds me

most of home

the bustling buses

clacking tongues of school-

girls blowing bubble gum

bigger than hoops they can wear

schoolboys’ afros higher than

i can dream of having or

wanting a new world where

Black kids can be free

life in a first world country

trini lady in the herb shop

asking what i need to fix this

belly ache of mine

crystals spread ‘cross glass

countertops the scent of hottie

patties haloing the air

down from her’s

the fish shop

the best fish n’ chips i had

since i been here ‘cross from that

my barber

who ine never forsake

i remember the day i first came to get a cut

he ask me which part of the Caribbean i from

i tell him i come from The Bahamas

he tell me we is neighbours

cause he Jamaican like i couldn’t pick up on his accent

he ask me what i come to study

i tell him poetry

he said woooooooow, girl, shoot for di stars!

and if yuh need anyt’ing all yuh haffi do is

come and find me!

said he’d be like an uncle to me

just like how trini lady became an aunt

the schoolchildren all my cousins

and hulme high street the monthly