after Solmaz Sharif
We make real the things we name and so we name
every animal, every plant, every star, every person
we think we discover. We reveal ourselves when
we name a thing: savages misidentifying other things
as savages, brutes labeling everything else a brute.
Humans appear to have trouble identifying other humans;
it makes one wonder if there are any humans at all.
Why am I on earth with these brutes?
you might wonder
while those brutes wonder,
Why am I on earth with you?
We are all savage to someone;
civilization is a joke we all told over and over
until we convinced ourselves it was real.
Only God is laughing now but sometimes
I want to laugh too.
Sometimes I think, Are you there, God?
It's me, the Other one.
Why am I on earth with these brutes?
God never answers but I imagine Him looking down at me,
stroking His long, perfect beard of white wool,
tight white curls wild as a jungle,
a whole universe alive in His hair,
eyes like two suns emitting light, radiating heat,
a relentless inferno of knowledge—
I imagine Him saying, Daughter,
why wouldn't a brute live among other brutes?
You are Other to no one but me.
