Otto's Song—Accessible Transcript

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[voice] light flows through all
through the great machine

first there was a people
then there was      smoke

then there was children
of that      smoke

I could have been a ghost
before I even died
protect what the fire left
& what the fire left      was me

conceptual ideas become
physical spaces

metaphor was discovery

spinal cord of stone

words conjure things

the chorus is,
"I can run the world
from my momma's house"

the funk of it

that quantum part of      words

sometimes I find the poem
writhing on the floor
twisting like a potion

I, too, was born
needing a way out
before knowing
what I needed to escape from

first there was a people
then there was      smoke

then there was children
of that      smoke

I could have been a ghost
before I even died

protect what the fire left
and what the fire left      was me

I've been thinking a lot about
my Jewish identity
in terms of queerness & anticolonialism

I'd be another      nothing
under history's rotting tongue

I've been thinking about
a decolonized Judaism for a while

I recognize it
because it's      Love
but it looks nothing like mine

records      of where each
of my ancestors
became a      ghost

do you know how many
trans people      disappear
into their own hands
& leave this world
without a      sound?

the grief of metamorphosis
& the metamorphosis of grief

in that world
everything is mine
or it's kindling

first there was a people
then there was      smoke

then there was children
of that      smoke

I could have been a ghost
before I even died

protect what the fire left
& what the fire left      was me

those genocides play out
not just in a gas chamber
but in your schooling of your thing
the way you were moved
around in the world
what neighborhoods
you're allowed to live in

I've noticed I am my best teacher
or creating my best teaching
when I am co-authoring

I wish I showed up
to myself, too, sometimes

poem as exhibit

— what if they walk through it
in a different order than you curated
right? & then you have a new thing

you think I want to archive
my friend into      memoria
just to keep them alive?

sometimes when writing about my own gender
I feel like I'm writing into my future gravestone
but in this space

I feel like I'm tending a garden
I feel joy
I grow flowers

the color of my dead      friend's
lilac hair in these margins
because that's the closest thing

I'll ever see her smile again

first there was a people
then there was      smoke

then there was children
of that      smoke

I could have been a ghost
before I even died

protect what the fire left
& what the fire left      was me

this is my last Word Up
& it is really, really painful
& hard for me
this event has been really transformative
I wouldn't be where I am without this event
without the work that Mooney does
without all of this work
& without the people who come like you
so thank you from the bottom of my heart
    

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