Poem — Teresia Teaiwa



Call into question/the status of English/noisy silence/
is there something in the collection/
of our faces/clothes/feet/
that would tell the deaf/or blind/
where we are?/
the language of the pavement/is avoidance/
the careful balance of physical proximity/with emotional distance/
locals who walk only with the purpose/of getting somewhere/
or migrants/who seek/the comfort of a quiet coastal promenade/
can’t know/the exile’s thrill/at being caught/in this traffic/
of seeking the busiest streets/of inhaling/exhaling/
that something we make/together/without knowing/ each other/
that poetry/that calls into question/the status of English


Teresia Teaiwa

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Posted in Poem
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