Universe

poem

Jean-Louis Forain, 1914

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Universe

Every bit of DNA that existed
still exists. You can breathe in
Shakespeare or Amelia Earhart
or Buddha if you happen to be

in the right place. You can
breathe in your dead mother
and father when you visit
your childhood home. You can

breathe in your childhood self.
Go visit that graveyard on
your reservation and you can
breathe in all of your ancestors.

At this very moment, you are also
breathing in a thousand ancestors
of people whom you’ve never met.
There are cities of strangers

flowing in your lungs and blood.
There are cemeteries in your bones.
O, didn’t you know that all of us
play host to everybody’s ghosts?