Best $20 ever spent…good catch

If you have ever traveled to the south coast of Jamaica, a must stop is Border. The place gets its name because it’s actually right on the border between the parishes of St. Elizabeth and Westmoreland.

Don’t get turned off by the vendors who race to the moving vehicle to get a sale. Keep your windows up, find a safe parking on the side of the road and look for the big black frying pot that is being swallowed by flames rising from a blazing wood fire.

I waited patiently as the fresh catch was perfectly seasoned and skillfully dropped into the boiling oil. It sizzled, as it allowed the grease to stiffen each bone while tenderizing its flesh before it was quickly flip over so that the technique could be repeated. Just as it was put in, it was taken out, held at an angle which allowed the excess oil to drip into the pot.

The catch, now fresh fried, is placed on aluminum foil and covered in a mix of scotch bonnet pepper, onions and carrots soaked in vinegar. The strong scent of the mixture forces tears and it will definitely cause the mouth to water. Be careful if you use your hands, the pepper is HOT!

Once you break the flesh it is so crisp and soft it melts on the tongue. The center bone, fried to a crisp, is minced like crackers between the teeth and I swallow every piece. As I am eating, I am hastily inhaling and exhaling trying to cool the fire on my lips but never once stopping until everything is consumed head, tail, vinegar soaked onions and all.


Find Me



Come see the bruise inside my lip,
behind the smile and pink chap-stick

Read the book behind my eyes,
look beyond their pearl white size

Listen to the broken words,
sung like separated birds

Hear the desperate cry for help,
Wrapped inside melodic stealth

Feel the blood beneath my skin
Battered blue and barely thin

See me, see me, I want you in
Behind this wall that I have built.

You are no FRAUD!


She jumped;
Eagerly at an opportunity
Motivated by a promise
That can never be filled.

Failing to rationalize the impact; still,
She continued,
Faking emotions that gave way to life
Moaning in relief under the doctor’s knife.

Killing one, then two
What else must a fraud do?
You are no fraud, so who are you?

I don’t love you and I hate me too
What more do you want me to do?

Bend low, jump high
Go get me the moon
I’m out, goodbye,
I’ll see you soon.

I am no fraud
But you can’t see
That I’m not OK with you loving me.



I am a real person
But do you see me?
Or do you see the man
You think I should be.

I have real feelings
That can be hurt,
I am more than the stain
Standing out on my smelly shirt.

I am a real person
With all my flaws,
Sometimes weak
Sometimes wrong.

I am a real person
Capable of love,
Longing for you
To give me a hug.



She expected to be an exception
to the rule of use,
and so she fantasized.

Floating around
like butterflies,
unaware of the captors net.

Dreaming and planning,
planning and dreaming,
‘happy go lucky’.

On day, he pulled the rug
and in the hole beneath,
she saw and heard the screams

of others who had dreamed
that their fate
with him was sealed

wanting to be his real
special and sweet,
exceptional true love.