WEBVTT

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OK, this next poem comes from a
very treasured part of the book

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which goes in that sequence.

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And this poem actually
originated with The Ghost Net

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Project, which was
a collaboration I

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did with an incredible visual
artist named Heather Green.

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It was a very
transformative project.

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It was hard to actually
pick one of the sequence

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because I feel like it
needs to be read together.

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But this is section 7.

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Camarones the fisherman cry from
the pier where shrimp and spiny

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oysters shine on
broken slabs of ice,

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children flying cellophane
kites until the wind

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stops, until the clouds drain
away into a blue as pale

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as paper.

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Yesterday was boojum
trees and the glassy lavas

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of the Pinacates.

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Today, a photograph
of the Seri woman

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in sepia, bare-breasted in a
skirt of sewn-together pelican

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wings.

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Dust settles on the street, on
the man sharpening his machete

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at the Cocos Helados stand.

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Every day it happens like this.

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We emerge from the
pale nets of sleep

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like ghost shrimp
in the estuaries,

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the brain humming its electric
language, touching something

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in a state of becoming."

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