Enough for today
I’m going to sleep on a piece
of burning burlap, the blade of a mill.
I have a light that dazzles, a reptile,
and a package of fava beans.
I have lost,
but to have an opening, a perfect hole,
makes up for what is lost. When I write
the graffiti of my grief I have the arrogance
to summon a downpour.
That’s why I’m stronger than the void.
I don’t know how banks
made off with my country,
of castaway Jonahses.