pale curls of dried        molasses shaped 
like the tops of ionic     columns    salt
scrim shingle              drying on ropes  
of fish     there            where the air 
is a sheaf of        dried tobacco   there
statues of saints               go walking
in the dark                    spit shines   
a shoe of cracked       leather    a brass
buckle curved                like the moon  
your ancestors crossed  rivers to exchange
one history for       another    sometimes
they found the gods      they were looking 
for    sometimes              they blinked   
wondering how they got               there                                   

* Ilocano: to drift, to wander

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