Guyana gyal
Guyana-Gyal
Parking
for selfish
jerks
only
Plenty Guyanese does place rocks and
concrete blocks to prevent others from
parking on they (public property)
parapet. Around suburbia you can see
them stones lined up on the edge of
(public property) parapets. Out of
consideration for drivers, so they
don’t bang-up they car, homeowners
does paint them rocks white. (Or maybe
they ain’t want to get sued).
Where I live nobody don’t block off
them parapets. But at one home further
down the road, at a corner lot, that
homeowner plonk massive, white
concrete slabs along the
parapet-and-road edge.
They look like headstones.
The first time I see them I been
tempted to sneak there one night and
paint red messages. Here lies Jack,
dead like a doorpost, 2006. Here likes
Johnson, deaf like a cricket bat,
2006.
But for all this preventing of others
from parking, I never see or hear
about anybody blocking in a car like
what happen to we. As my mother
maneuver and klunk around them blocks,
kabonk under the back bumper of we po’
ole car, I turn to check out the
address of the duck-egg pink house.
No. 69.
“Oh my,” I mutter. “Number 69 Cheery
Place.”
Yesterday, a idea hit me. I going into
the rock business. I gon sell painted
rocks with all kinda messages on them
to homeowners.
“Please turn me over,” one rock can
say. And if a curious person turn it
over,
the message on the rock belly gon say,
“Ahhh, thank youuuu.”
Wey-heyyyyy, I gon be filthy, stinkin’
riche.
Oh me
moomaa
Lawd-oh
Gawd-ohhhh.
Guyana-Gyal
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Overheard
Outside the courthouse in town, one afternoon after work, two secretary-types
been chatting.
Slender one with curly hair and shoes with spikey heels say, “He handsome but
he is a dawg. He ain’t know how to talk to people.”
Plump one with long, swingy straight hair say, “He does want he secretary to
fetch he jacket and briefcase while he walk in front like he is some star in a
TV show.”
I look and look to see who they been talking about but the object of derision
done drive away.Tuesday,
