Lost stories abound, loitering like lusty mules,
Ebullient commerce of buck, babe and gamble.
To lose is the gain of the unknown.
In the shadow of the good earth,
The whitest pearl is still a single hard grain.
I greet you, weaver between your thin red webs.
When I’m not looking, I know, like a Harry Harlow monkey
You’re secretly the wind of Texas,
A lion in Chicago, a hungry oyster on rainy 9th and Hennepin
Or a drowsy parrot in Saline of curious hue.
I want to take you home, kin, but we never know our place.
We laughgh with lighght, high above the type
Oh, who swear, by their loud traditions and trajectories apparent
"Connections can seal," a cad’s roar with lips of misplaced baggage.
They hypnotize the sun like a Mississippi
A crow, no, a raven, no, a rook flapping to Pluto or some palace
Victorious, a halo, a tramp pyre. Free. Transforming
An answer waiting to be buried, rebelling, uncaging
Defiant, you lovely want of mine.
Clothing me, a ray, a tapestry of dreamers, a flag adopted.
Originally appeared in BARROW, 2009
Recently read aloud for an interview with Land of a Gazillion Adoptees "A Sum of Threads" was one of my more recent poems addressing the transcultural adoptee experience. But as always there are a number of ways to read this.