The tropical infection traced
a map up my finger and standing
outside the Kunming Red
Cross Hospital, we watched this white

rabbit eat Christmas poinsettia
before we found the Doctor named Wen.
Registration for the operation cost 3 kuai 5
equivalent to twenty-seven cents. Dr.

Wen pointed two fresh, ready fingers
at his table and repeated (in English)
operation. After the lecture on pus
and abscess, you expressed nonchalance

at the sight of his knife, (he unwrapped
it, you said, optimistic) and I
whispered translations into the shirt
where I buried my face at your waist.

When Dr. Wen sliced the finger like tropical
fruit the leather taste spread
to the back of my mouth. Operation,
your belt, Chinese vocab abscess

operation, white rabbit, red plant. The day
went on outside, and when I
noticed it again hours later, I had stopped
screaming, The bandages were just

gauzy hotel curtains, angels
in fluttering light. When I rolled
from the shadows of hospital shock,
you introduced me to
my finger. Gored and masked
criminal bandit! Escaped from the red
cross, you said: Finger X. Read
a passage from Our Man

In Havana. Yes, China, Havana
nary a trauma; we double wrapped the
digit’s disguise with a plastic shower
cap and swam off the coast

of Hainan. But just to be safe, you carried
me through the water
with my hand raised like a torch
above the waves.

Like every leaving wasn’t a country
that seceded from your body

Like every lover wasn’t crossing
your wrists in trouble’s rolling light

Make love to me like your people were never
stolen, like your blood has never been a question

of belonging. And I will make
love to you like a river unbraiding

our countries, like the mind of the ocean
remembering your name.

It began:

1. Life is not fair
2. How can I be happy while others suffer
3. How can I not be happy while others suffer
4. Others will suffer whether or not I am happy
5. It is not the suffering of others that causes my happiness
6. It is not the not-suffering of others that causes my unhappiness
8.


I have been attracted to the idea that naming is a form of violence
but does that mean we should go around calling everyone Hey You
which seems like another sort of violence
even though it is a way of recognizing the other
as other

What can be said on this point?

Chaos is the new calm
violence the new balm   
to be spread on lips
unused to a kiss.             

Left is the new right
as I brace for a fight
with a man who stands
on his remaining hand.

Fetid harbor harbor me      
until someone is free          
to drive me away          
from what happened today.
        
Don't strand me standing here.
If you leave, leave beer. 

Chaos is the new calm
violence the new balm   
to be spread on lips
unused to a kiss.             

Left is the new right
as I brace for a fight
with a man who stands
on his remaining hand.

Fetid harbor harbor me      
until someone is free          
to drive me away          
from what happened today.
        
Don't strand me standing here.
If you leave, leave beer.