The language I can give you is a stream
in a pathway dug in the sand.
One time I saw two kids digging
a tributary from the ocean's mouth
with a yellow tool set that said
"The Best Fun At The Beach Since Waves!"
on the bag. You need courage to force a delta
like you need the courage to grunt
and call it poetry.

I have come to this language as an enemy
sworn into the second place,
but I'm not the enemy,
I'm not the ideal contrarian.

This language is passing
straight towards the bathroom door.

This language is a life lived
in repetition,
my lover never leaves my body:
Continuous syntax, fixed meaning—
in the quotidian I'm plotting my fluency,
and in the hotline
I murmur, "Victoria, Victoria."

This language is a Florida man builds
trench and it goes horribly wrong
in viral video as cops are forced to shut it down.
Footage shows the unnamed man
energetically digging a pathway
to connect a canal and the sea
with dozens of spectators around him,
some even enjoying a dip
            in the gentle
                               water
                                    flow.
The video took a turn as the water flow intensified,
transforming the trench into a raging flood with crashing waves.
This language reveals the moment a beach trench project in Florida turned into an out-of-control inundation. Hour 1 of the trench. This language shows a man in a floral swimsuit on all fours digging up the sand to form a pathway. This language is a trench dig goes spectacularly wrong. 5.3M views.
This language is a captioned video,
 "water finally broke." I mean,
water finally broke!

If I crossed the border by plane,
did I ever really cross the border?
I have ruined the lines.

This language is the backdoor to the sidelines,
to the V.I.P. of half-full glasses.
It's a nanoscale biological renouncement
to specific phonemes.
Torn muscle.

What is a native language if not another thing
only called native for the spectacle.
The language I can give you is this accessible ridge
where I trip, but I continue.

Mi lengua materna siempre me tendrá
la neblina que circunvala la mañana.
El inglés me hace elocuente porque opto por callar
cuando veo que mi argumento es enredado.
La lengua es un tentáculo en retroceso.
Cuando despierto de una pesadilla
no digo soñé que estaba desnuda
sino I was being chased by an animal.
Es difícil explicar que lloro por decisiones voluntarias
y me abrazas para calmarme y callo que estás muy caliente.

With the language I give you
I am atop the waves with a harpoon.
Ask me what is home for me,
where am I from originally,
and I will discreetly give you my current mailing address
because I am so proud of fooling you by occupying.
Do you think you are a better navigator?
I am so good at it I don't even let
a bobblehead find its groove.

I'm getting a sense this is my best version:
the literary one,
Literally al pie de la letra.
There is no single moment where I talk
and my words shake up the air against the air.
Always a little bit of a commotion. When I say gut,
they think I'm in awe of something.
Yes, like Plato, I believe in gut and carousels.
What cars for sale? Someone would ask
I would respond, "What cars for sale?".

I love agreeing
because people demand more of this language from me:
You can say that again.
I say it again:
The language I can give you is a stream
in a pathway dug in the sand,
I dig to guide movement and leave a trace.
You will always remember me in my fours
to demarcate, to spring passage.
Make your own history?
More like make your own geography.

                                                                                                Sand has something beautiful,         
                                                                                                it's easily displaced.
      Let me.
      Welcome me.
                                                                                                Where did this river come from.
      My hands

      trying to reach you
      Has felt continental.

                                    I have always seen myself as water.
                                    Maybe what I want to say is inexpressible
                                    And water is the one not forced transparency.
                                    I just wanna be your baby.

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