Barbancourt Rum

I wrote this for my French Canadian friend Stephanie who has Haitian roots. A group of us had a heavy session drinking Barbancourt rum. The following day we all went sailing. The poem tells the remainder of the story…

Oh Lord, I ain’t feeling so well
Drank too much booze, for a mademoiselle
That Barbancourt rum has found its new host
Unlocking the spirit of the old vodou ghost

Woe is me only three hours sleep
Sailing with friends on the ocean deep
My stomach is churning and out of control
I need Father Bondye to cleanse my soul

If I survive this eternal cruise
No longer will I need to sing the blues
That evil spirit will finally flee
And I vow in future to only drink tea

Spread out flat at the back of the boat
I look at the sky as I curse this damn float
If only I’d chosen my life as a nun
And never indulged in that sweet golden rum

The colour of my skin has now turned green
And all I can smell is gasoline
Please remove the devil from my vein
And free me from this ball and chain

I’m off the boat and the wretched fowl sea
Standing firm on the solid rock quay
No longer I float on that oversize sink
So who around here is going to buy me a drink