We
like orphans
retrofitted family
a bricologe
of nationality
diasporic unsettling
ethnic monolithic
border-bumping-trans-racial-crisis-
post-neo-nation-
imagined communities-

We like strangers
on this land
walk through fields
of wandering ghosts,
looking for salvation,
holding god to his promise
that in death, we shall be saved.

We
like scattered seeds
cling to nothing
but to notions
that we once had roots
before routes,
that our cells were not so foreign,
invaders,
that our birth on some soil,
somewhere,
was organic.

We
like post-human hybrids,
shake skins
like cross dress identity,
unsettled and scattered,
shedding skin,
until the tissue crumbles,
and we'll have no place left to go
save for the collapsing into
dancing
like the crowds.