Author Information
The Pilot
The Pilot
He flew over the Blue mountain, and took me away…
Past the Kingston ghettos crying for help…
Past the crime, beauty, and sex.
To another nation, built on chemicals and corporations,
Built on a greater majority of heartache and strife.
The Pilot
He could have never known that I wanted to be a dancer, poet, actress, singer, journalist, fiction writer when I was a little girl.
He didn’t know about the times when Jamaica was dark, and I was awake, and I tip toed to a better place…
How could he have known?
The pilot
All he cared to do was please the tourists, not the higglers or the hustlers, or The drug pushing smugglers.
How could he have known?
The Pilot
He didn’t know my father, my father whom I love, had caused me so much pain, so much pain…
He didn’t know my walls had heard my cries, my cousin had witnessed my beatings on a few defiant nights.
The Pilot
How could he have known, that he was taking me to my new home…
To opportunity and… and… and… and…
Well I don’t really know what else…
The Pilot might have kept me in Jamaica, if he knew this is how I felt.
