Iguana

for A. T.
.
My friend from Guyana
was asked in Philadelphia
if she was from “Iguana.”
.
Iguana, which crawls and then
stills, which flicks its tongue at the sun.
.
In history we learned that Lucayans
ate iguana, that Caribs
(my grandmother’s people)
ate Lucayans (the people of Guanahani).
Guiana (the colonial way,
with an i, southern-most
of the Caribbean) is iguana; Inagua
(southern-most of The Bahamas,
northern-most of the Caribbean)
is iguana. Inagua, crossroads with Haiti,
Inagua of the salt and flamingos.
The Spanish called it Heneagua,
“water is to be found there,”
water, water everywhere.
.
Guyana (in the language of Arawaks,
Wai Ana, “Land of Many Waters”)
is iguana, veins running through land,
grooves between green scales.
My grandmother from Moruga,
(southern-most in Trinidad)
knew the names of things.
She rubbed iguana with bird pepper,
she cooked its sweet meat.
.
The earth is on the back
of an ageless iguana.
.
We are all from the Land of Iguana,
Hewanorra, Carib name for St. Lucia.
.
And all the iguanas scurry away from me.
And all the iguanas are dying.
.
•••

Christian Campbell is a poet, scholar and culture worker of Bahamian and Trinidadian heritage.  He studied at Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar and received the PhD at Duke.  His debut collection, Running the Dusk (Peepal Tree Press), is forthcoming in 2010.  He is a professor at the University of Toronto.

About this entry