This is a pulsing, skanking, swaying novel that reverberates inside you long past its end. Each sentence jerks and twists with the lyrical swing and rhythm of patois and dub. Music and dance is the way to connect with ancestors and survive in a hostile world of racism, police brutality and male violence. Despite this bleak reality, this book fills your heart and you fight, you struggle, you resist and you definitely dance.
My heart’s a single wailing note rising outta my ribcage, dragging my guts through my mouth. I coil the telephone cable round and round my wrists.
Pull tighter and tighter. Can’t breathe.
‘Yamaye, Yamaye, please. I’m so sorry to tell you like this.’
I drop the phone. Scream. My voice travelling. I’m looking down from the roof of the Tombstone tower block, seeing Black people getting sucked inna sinkholes of siren sounds, the yellow outline of a body on the ground. Fragments of Moose pulsing sound waves of red, green, gold.
