by Geoffrey Philp
"Relationships evolve. Friendship endures."
—Prince William, Duke of Cambridge
I hope I'm not breaking any royal protocols,
which in my father's time would've gotten us killed,
strung up on the gallows like Daddy Sharpe, Paul Bogle,
George William Gordon—heroes who were martyred
at the king's pleasure for demanding the right to rule
ourselves, a stake in the wealth your empire robbed
and vowed never to return a farthing to unwashed rebels.
And now, you've come into my yard, claiming to be a friend?
Tell me, William, what kind of friend enslaves another friend,
pillages and loots family heirlooms of his friend's ancestors,
brainwashing generations of descendants with a one-sided story
without claiming responsibility for the plight of the survivor's
welfare, and after four hundred years still can't say he's sorry
with reparations? No, William. This relationship must end.
Author’s Note: My “Dear William” letter to the Duke of Cambridge. There goes my knighthood and invitation to Buckingham Palace.
Geoffrey Philp is the author of five books of poetry, two collections of short stories, three children's books, and two novels. His next collection of poems, Archipelagos (Peepal Tree Press), uses Sylvia Wynter’s readings of Cesaire and Foucault along with Amitav Ghosh's paradigm to explore the connection between colonialism, capitalism, and Christianity in the Plantationocene. Twitter: @GeoffreyPhilp Instagram: @geoffreyphilp
