Bear and brains
Our ancestor was thrown from the ship
Where the four rivers meet
Missionary exile
Our mission:
Like the hypodermic into the heart
To wake the body from opium
Into the harp nest of burrs
Beating against our faces
To record everything
The work is slow, grandfather
Sand falls from the wall
I haven’t enough sacks
I realized early on
That I was entrenching the wrong position
The enemy was not neatly arranged
900 meters north or south
So I spiraled in
Marking my steps
Like the mandala
We played chess in the gazebo in Los Angeles
I was white
And you wouldn’t let me win
Let me be black now
And lead you into battle
Mandala means round
And also: noose
Bending around the body
The earth traces her knives over our fingers
To count the hairs
For each one
We fall further in
I wake from a drowned star city
Here in our watery capital
I dream of you
Standing like a ghost
Over the Encino swimming pool