I remember my ancestors' communal meals and celebrations, dances and music, legends and tales--that which bound them together as they fractured toward emigration.
I remember my grandmother's curls bouncing as she sang German lullabies and trembled as she hid from the Kaiser under her bed....her first use of a typewriter and her first kiss, her last performance and her last breath.
I remember thick yarn bows holding my pigtails as I sang Abba songs and trembled as I hid from nukes under my desk....my first use of a smart phone and my first dog, my last poem and my last breath.
I remember my descendants' poor teeth and brackish drinking water, their labours under a scorching sun, the devices used to connect and disconnect their disenfranchised masses and the revolutions that led to heart-wrenching change--a repeated pattern extolling our nature.
