For Caribbean Girls who Have Considered Assimilation (When that Accent gets too Thick)

This poem is for Caribbean Girls who have Considered Assimilation No matter where you go It never gets more beautful than the hills that surround your concrete- infested valley. No matter where you go, no Force is stronger than your grandmother's Hug. Nothing will ever intoxicate you quite like the scent of the lime-bud tea Forgotten on the broken-down washing machine. For Caribbean Girls who have considered Assimilation: There is only one home no substitute It is that house you climbed to get the yellow cherries to make chutneys It is the radio station that blasts music from your childhood providing a time vacuum where nothing has ever changed except the softness of your skin, the droop of your smile and that accent which you have not forgotten, but which has, from all accounts forgotten You.