It’s OK to sing without knowing the words.
An outsider becomes an insider
and then disappears with the megafauna.
It won’t be long until I become the last of my kind
and shrivel into the bushes.
Tread lightly, do not let sentiment go to waste.
A new fossil is discovered to be
a distant relative of a horse.
A rare, medicinal plant produces an unusual smell, winds
carry the scent from one continent to another.
What will it take to convince you that I am a woman of science?
How easy it is to become the worst of both worlds.
This is for those whose songs we will not know.
Christine Shan Shan Hou is a poet and artist based in Brooklyn, New York. Publications include Community Garden for Lonely Girls (Gramma, 2017),“I’m Sunlight” (The Song Cave, 2016), C O N C R E T E S O U N D (2011), a collaborative artists’ book with artist Audra Wolowiec, and Accumulations (Publication Studio, 2010), featuring drawings by artist Hannah Rawe. Her poems have been featured in Poetry Society of America, Gramma, Poor Claudia, Fanzine, Elderly, and iO: A Journal of New American Poetry, amongst others.