So that empires later a White cock could say to a black hen, I own you. I know that it boils down to races and rights, and all that jazz. I know that blacks invented jazz and it was good. I know that no one is black. Some Aborigines are maroon, and people from Sri Lanka seem almost gray.
Tones make the music, the jazz of continents and dignity.
Boiling water in a memory. I sit beside a country club's kitchen. Old brown woman with worried features pours out a pot of boiling water. It all started in Africa. Then the water charges further, spilling and flowing.