We set the world on fire
With our words,
our breath made manifest on paper
Seeping like small influence
into the corners of everything
I am not alive unless I write
This I mean in various senses
To survive
Is to make the text be alive
To set ethnographic worlds ablaze
To make a mark
To not be forgotten
in an academic haze of
has been
could be
why haven’t you yet
Forming worth from small print
That hardly anyone reads
and even fewer understand
We fight
We burn
We die.
But who will rise?


2 thoughts on “Rise”

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