Fruit Of Chains Poem by gary polonsky

A sonnet

Delicious corn, on or off the cob,
Or sugar cane, sweetening our drink,
Or good cigar, puffed by privileged snob,
Or cotton frock rustling ‘neath a mink.
More things we take for granted thus
Like rice, salt, gold and jewels a-rain,
How did they make their way to us?
Who towed the barge, racked with pain?

We know, of course, if we dare reflect
As Washington and Jefferson a-bade,
Snap! Bamanakan dialect.
Crackle! Whip across the shoulder blade.
Pop! Cereals all borne of slaves,
Arm in arm through oceanic waves.


Written in Ontario, Canada - 19th May 2020