Speculative Song

I thought to bring a [Insert poem]: I’ll learn speechlessness
first. [What image of safety?—unfold it] and fight, instead,

like seeds of understory. The dawn of us has not yet begun,
has not yet ended. The time for language is [For it’s from

out the riot of love, we exit], and grief must be loved. [Enter
the page, bearing a vow.] We follow the light underground

to face [Hold, hold: the poem only you will write.] To emerge,
[Strike my name. Underline yours.] I thought I understood

no voice joys in a house without care. I heard we could survive
without us. In that world: a moment when [Copy image of

safety] looks like home. But in love, [Reveal gardens: alive, raging.
Rain.] To love you, I must love you without becoming [Something

easily loved] instead. In love, when [Every garden bleeds] I run
to you. In the long orbit of a heart resisting eclipse, no light

but a voice, rising along voices. In love, I know what’s real and
do not betray you. Not for anything. Not for [Imagine world].

Our Archipelago

In the countryside, a platoon of peasants torch a backhoe, / owned by Del Monte, gutting our people’s ancestral land.

I Call From Everywhere to Everywhere:

Friend. To practice one’s true self is to grow brave for consequence. Friend. I am here for honorable acts. Friend. I am sitting at JFK again.

creation myth

some day you will return it, this library book of you.