LIFE ON EARTH
I don’t wish to see the world’s largest
Anything. Show me a guidebook with a drawing
Of an open window—
This open window, for example.
Draw through it another open window to a different apartment,
And through it another open window to a different apartment,
So when I go back to where I’m from, I speak of layers.
Of openings. Not the size
Of some mountain or stamp collection.
Show me you in your backyard when you were six
Stretched out behind a tomato plant.
Beetle fairy masculinity
Ant volcano of women’s history
Delicious dirt cake to eat in solitude
Deliver me experiences to match these
Field notes I was hoping to take.
I thought you could take me on a tour of you,
But you say that takes a lifetime.
What is lifetime?
Twenty-five years of sleep
Where I’m from, they want me
back. I’ve let them know
I’ll be there in one lifetime.