between this mountain ridge and the vague seawhere the lost exodusof corials sunk without trace—  There is too much nothing here.  – “Air” by Derek Walcott  A new middle passage gapes wide, and amnesia fills the cracks. An unbroken line of signifiers, Ste Lucie, the Helen of the West, Santa Lucia, Hewanorra, Ioüanalao, burst … Continue reading IRIS IN THE BLUE EYE