A Touch of Salt on My Confession
They come to see me
They ask me for the sea
Algae and fish

Unlike Jesus I have no gift
For self-deprecation
I stay here
Head down writing page after page
Lonely prophet
For company I have
Cats and geraniums

Without warning they leave with misery between their legs
And for the first time
A blood of ink has me by the throat

In the flux and flow of the coming tomorrows
I've only one thing to do
Tame the whale of the unknown

Not easy
Since childhood I've limped slightly like Oedipus
Same eclipse on the pin or is it the contracted Achilles' heel
The cavernous tibia bones, the calf thin as a fillet making me
Lie down under
My grandmother's boubou

I lack muscle and breath
And pass through the rift of the present
Meet others against their will
Or by chance, join the dance
Ignore the devil going round and round above my head

Even as a kid
I ran away from the pack
The law of tyrants
The Machiavellis in the sandboxes

I often lose myself
Sometimes I find myself
And this time the naked eye sees
Through the reeds of the thick night

Flesh if cornered too many times
Ends up biting

There are days
When the voiceless end up
Speaking under the weight of contempt
As we know, no worse torture exists
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This excerpt comes from my translation of Abdourahman Waberi’s "When We Only Have the Earth" (African Poetry Book Series, University of Nebraska Press, 2025). A nomad at heart, Waberi’s interior and exterior journeys take us across the globe, offering rich insights into the humanity that connects us all as we face growing threats to our planet. “Heaven is on earth and nowhere else” is the wisdom he shares with us.

Nancy Naomi Carlson on "A Touch of Salt on My Confession"
Andrea Gibson
"Poet Andrea Gibson, Candid Explorer of Life, Death and Identity, Dies at 49"

"Andrea Gibson, a celebrated poet and performance artist who through their verse explored gender identity, politics and their 4-year battle with terminal ovarian cancer, died Monday at age 49....Tributes poured in Monday from friends, fans and fellow poets who said Gibson’s words had changed their lives — and, in some cases, saved them."

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"A major interest of mine, in terms of bringing in historical reference, is just trying to acknowledge that where I am is not the be-all-end-all and won’t be the be-all-end-all. What I mean by that is that where I’m writing from is just a blip, you know, and my writing and my literary self on the page is in many ways an outgrowth of historical forces that are beyond my control. I think that one way I can feel like my art is engaging with these forces is to write about them and to move the past into the present."
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