How to Survive in My Father’s World

  1. Write poems.

  2. Hydrate. Eat. Sleep. Exercise. Meditate.

  3. Love yourself. Love your body. Trust yourself. Trust your body.

  4. Put yourself in the world and know that you belong there. The world is bigger than people with power.

  5. Find the exits. Know the exit routes. Plan your exit. Then enter.

  6. See clearly, even what you don’t want to see. Bear witness. Take notes. Synthesize. Learn. Speak. Sing. Recite. Remember.

  7. Write more poems. Stronger this time, more sure-handed, until metal strikes against metal.

  8. Pay attention but do not seek attention. Turn your attention into a Mobuis strip that moves inward, then outward, then inward again with no beginning and no end.

  9. Read people’s bodies more than their words, unless they’re poets, then read their bodies and words together.

  10. Call bullshit bullshit unless it’s meant to be bullshit, then let it be what it is without calling it out. We need a little bullshit, now more than ever.

  11. Read poems. Learn to move in and out of their white space. Listen and respond, listen and respond. Breathe through the lines. Inhale poems, exhale poems.

  12. Believe in poems and their power. Don’t give up on poems.

  13. Write more poems. Softer this time. Less heavy-handed, until the weft of each poem is as strong as churro wool.

  14. Fawn if needed for survival but only for survival. Try not to freeze or flee. Remove the “r” from fright and fight if that’s the only available option.

  15. Be ready to run. If needed, run. But circle back. Never leave. Draw an arc around the threat from a safe distance. Make that arc smaller every day. Remember: You belong.

  16. Know when you’re with someone who’s hostile. Know that anyone can be hostile.

  17. Be hostile if needed. Be loving as much as possible.

  18. If you don’t write poems, instead do whatever you love, whatever keeps you alive.

  19. Write poems.