Hafa adai, everybody.
It's going to take me one second to get set up
and get adjusted to this very bright, sunlike light coming
at me.
So I would like for you, while I get prepared,
to turn to a person that you did not
arrive here with, if possible, and tell them
the best part of your day.
Talk-- talk amongst yourself.
[SIDE CONVERSATION]
It sounds like you've been having some pretty good days,
so I'm into that.
And then, just thank the person for sharing some of their day
with you.
So to get started, I would like very much to thank the Poetry
Center and Vickie Vértiz, who was this year's judge
for the summer residency and chose my manuscript for being
here.
So thank you.
The gift of unfettered time and solitude to create
is one that I have not received before.
And honestly, I don't know what to do with myself just yet.
But I just got here, so I feel like it's-- it's going to come
to me.
I believe that I'm the first CHamoru poet in residence here.
Y'all can clap.
You can clap.
[CHEERING]
I hope that I am the beginning of a long list
of future CHamoru poets in residence.
I also have a special guest in the audience tonight
that I would like to thank, my friend and fellow queer
Indigenous bicycle mechanic Asha Greyeyes.
[CHEERING]
Asha and I met at bike mechanic school, and we love each other.
[LAUGHTER]
So for tonight's reading I'd like
to make a dedication to all First Nations and Indigenous
people who are fighting colonial and imperial forces to protect
sacred land, air, and water.
In particular, my fellow CHamorus
who are fighting to protect our island from the US military's
plan to install a live fire training
complex on sacred land, often referred to as Ritidian,
which we call Litekyan.
I'd also like to extend my support to Kanaka Maoli, chosen
family who are protecting Mauna Kea from further desecration,
and know that my heart is with you.