REVOLUTIONARY LETTER
- Amanda Johnston
- May 10
- 2 min read
by Claire Bowman
after Diane di Prima
for all the creatures who have taught me how to resist & survive
even in the heat leering
volcanic on the cusp of April
as weather patterns mutate
in an expression of suffering
I celebrate the whooping crane
hunting minnows in the wetlands
I celebrate
the Mexican long-nosed bat
dazed on agave nectar
or finding sanctuary in cool caves
I celebrate the rare Barton Springs salamander
its branching gills coral fronds
breathing in the world like a poet
I know who has changed me
with her undefended heart
yes, I celebrate Annar whose name means pomegranate
which finds a way to grow even here,
drenched in an excess of Texas sun
& poets, sowing heirloom griefs that bud, that break
through cemetery soil— I celebrate you
when endangered
by a toxic gospel you create sanctuaries
where our softest gossamer-winged desires
can gather & survive, yes,
I have been radicalized
by tenderness
restored by queer & tendrilled care
& so, I celebrate mónica, who taught me the syntax
of Panhandle & the romance of anarchic thought
I celebrate Taisia, who taught me to sup
on creaturely kernels of language
& Kate who taught me how to whisper
with a poem as with the ghost of a bird
yes, I celebrate Bianca & Cloud & Sequoia
who summon verse from the twisted caverns
of heartbreak & history & song
I celebrate the I Scream Socialists
who gather nefarious
& raw to hear poems drip
like melting continents, & still
dream of restoration
for there will be no divine rapture
no exodus from the desert to the stars
yes, the poets here in Texas
are defiant, fireproof
they are stellar transgressions growing
poems from dry limestone
& their names are written in the foliage
of this book, fresh from the sun & gathering
along the shaded banks of the aquifer’s backbone
ready to commune
& croon
& hold each other to life.