What is loss what we didn’t
Even know yet was in
Those others also a part
Of ourselves unknowable
I am withdrawing
Every image of the event
Now, what is left being
The remnant, hard kernel
Of how they’ve maintained
Consent, the citizen being
A fiction and the people being
A fiction, nations don’t exist
Really just this proximity,
To disaster borders determine
Who gets to feel this sense
Of tragedy, whose death matters
What comes back comes
The fuck back clutching
At a lack every image
Still tries to fill, a hole where
The truth got clipped
In the attempt to list
The names of the dead
What else is lost, displaced
By an intention to make visible,
Unaccountable though it may
Always return to the place it was
The motion of this
Withdrawal without caption,
Or negative space or silence
Surrounding it being
What is left, calls me back
From a sense of process to you
History in those arms the
Opposite of immunized would be
Secret name of God or
A negation we’ve always dreamed
Casualties of false flags
Full of grace and excepted
From witness, through peace
Do we dominate, through
The millions we’ve captioned.
