Origins

                                                              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.