Hatianology

You were the first to break shackles
De la consquitadors y Napoleano
You shrugged off the deadwoods in office
You stopped the glass bullets that jumped from behind the shanties
You share land, but not fruits, with Dominicana
You gave us Basquiat and we got an art futurist
You gave us The Fugees, and we were not ready
You somehow, someway, brushed Aristide off of your shoulder
You got bored cleaning up from all the hurricanes
Your children went everywhere like Johnny Cash
The Lord tried to shake you into the ground
But you stood still, with your palm skirt flowing
You are Haiti
An undistressed damsel