census

when they came to count my fangs
i said, "i do not have a war inside me."
the man frowned & made notes.
in this country everyone is a moving city.
i build a train. i build a tunnel.
find a secret history where everyone
had to live as ghosts. when i say, "everyone"
i always mean us & not them.
they put a purple 'x' on my door
which could mean anything. 
a friend tells me they feel affirmed 
by the marking. "the birds can see me" they say.
i want to be so happy. instead, i make 
the same 'x' beneath my tongue.
tell the birds, "i am terrified of the bus station."
once, i found a piece of a body
in a trash can there. gender is often
"what were you turned into." i wanted
so badly to be recorded that i was
& it wasn't good enough. they take 
our pictures with a polaroid & then eat them.
i ask them "what does that do?"
they say, "i was just hungry." they make a dream
in which we are all beta fish. gorgeous 
& incapable of living in the same water. 
i spit up a wrench in the bath. i use it
to make a telephone. i call a neighbor 
& ask, "what did you give them?"
the neighbor whispers, "nothing."
i am embarrassed. i always shed too much
when a fist turns into a shadow puppet.
let's curate our capture. let's by
shiny data. i do not want to live forever.
that is only what i am told to want.
i crave unknowability. mystery is a gift 
that only the gutless can get.
write down that i am one of those bodies
that doesn't stop barking.