The squatters keep building tin houses
on my friend’s land and he offers me
half its value if I go to Brazil with a machete
and some Portuguese and make them stop
for the next three years.
The squatters keep giving birth
without c-sections and use gravity
rather than forceps to let it all out.
The squatters keep breathing
in and out, in and out, Sat Nam.
Truth is our highest identity
I am squatting over you, here, on the bed,
and godammit, I have to put cunt
in a poem one more time
because you are looking up at mine
saying, Jesus. To squat is to live free.
To squat is to trust that your insides
will get ripped out
in the best way possible.
To squat is to sink low at the knees,
but not lock them. To squat is to linger
and let the lips separate and speak
saying, I can’t imagine
never having known you