—for W.S Merwin

We are wailing while we play with our children,
wailing at the breakfast table,
wailing at the news.
Wailing, hostages coming home while their family was murdered.
Wailing, while finally knowing the worst
before it gets worse.
Wailing, bombs dropped.
Cities gone.
Wailing while brushing our teeth,
our children’s teeth and taking out vitamins
so we can be healthier and continue to wail.
Wailing in our dreams,
wailing in our cars,
writing emails and wailing.
Wailing to a staffer who takes our message
and says please and thank you and have a good day.
We are wailing into our good day,
wailing on our yoga mats,
and wailing at the grocery store.
Wailing at social media,
wailing when we lose friends, sleep, jobs, and wailing in dignity,
as if our wailing could restore some sense of dignity.
Do the stars wail?
How about the trees and the land,
and the bodies of water?
They have been through so much wailing.
And what about technology?
Can we teach AI to wail?
Build wailing robots?
And what about the Wailing Wall I placed a note in
before I even really knew what it was like to wail.
How does stone wail?
How do the dead wail?
How does love wail?
We are wailing with our voices and our bodies
Wailing in poems and
wailing while fucking each other
and wailing then making love after we wail.
Wailing while wailing, and in spite of wailing
we say hello while wailing
and say how are you while wailing
and wondering while wailing how to answer that question.
Can we say we’ve been wailing for hours, for days,
for years and yet somehow we’ll still say I’m fine,
thank you.