Moon Mirrored Indivisible

In the mirror I’ve said, “Immigrant
my name is argument,
as small as my means”

As weakly as the moon reflecting
The gravity of stars
Trying to unearth ancient huacos—vessels
For gods

Who otherwise inhabit local boulders,
Traffic circles, the Circle K,
But I’ve been dreaming

Of killer ghosts to be dealt with
In real-time ways like
               breathe in, hold,

               turn away—blood
               on my face
               and shirt and hands—

From a wayward truth about great ancestors

“They’re damaged, they’re damaged,
they’re so
comfortable,” said

In a three-line English
That should help me wash
The present moment of belief, this

On a day without gods,
With only the staff they offered us to strike Earth
And there make the navel of the world

Don’t even bother to break it