From
guns crucifixes
fall mornings olive oil
damp leaves grape leaves
skunk piss basement arak
to cover to burn
it all it all
up. up.
From
land famine
not my own not my own
all mine all mine
we worked it we breathed it in
with our own with our own
hands. For generations orange blossoms. Forever
we have come from kitchens— we have come from fauna—
three square meals, the garden, figs for breakfast, thyme for lunch,
before this—no decay. without this—no breath.
From
dirt sea
gravel salt
dusty fingernails safe harbors
backwards and backwoods hilltops in Tibnine
dead apples dead pomegranates
and arrowheads. and crusader castles.
For generations we came from For sanctuary we came from
these woods—these hallows now those streets—those holy now
hollow.