Poetry: Echosightings Vol III, SPIRIT OF JAMAICA

Don who?
Forty years a 
Daughter of the soil
And yet she had
No clue
So what
Of Alphanso
Tommy
Brevett and
Sterling the last man
Standing
From the era when bands
ruled the musical roost
When spots like
Glass Bucket
Silver Slipper
And La Parisienne
pulsated
To the stratosphere
with that unique
Sound
Through a long-belled
Horn
The reluctant star
Wailed
The sigh of Trade Winds
melded with lapping
Waves
set to the beat of
Resistance
A mystery to the
Insulated
Such as she
Now the beat's
Reverberated
throughout the world
Reaching a new generation
Such as the one
she lays to sleep each night
with foreign lullabies
They're already inured to
canned food of
Overproduced sounds and
empty celebrities
For the parents
unpredictable Don
And his wanton eccentricities
Are a horror show
Worse than
The nightly news
The hidden majesty of
Drummond's blues
Is lost on them
But the little girl
inside the big exec
Knows better
She'd joyously move to
The ska
If only we'd
Let her