Last night two writer friends and I were plotting how to join another writer friend’s new and fascinating workshop without her knowing. How, though?

Maybe we should all register under anagrams of our names! I said. She’d just see three unusual names and figure she had some cool new people in her workshop and then our smiling faces will pop up!

I immediately began trying to anagram my name: Chemise Along. Cholimia Gens. Egma Cholines. Mein Galoches. Chameleon Gis. Ciel Hogmanes.

Then I remembered this poem, which I hadn’t thought of in a long time, but wow, do I need it right about now. Maybe you do too. Let’s make canoes out of whatever we can –wood, words, our own determination not to give up–and keep paddling our way through this neverending nightmare.

Ars Pasifika, by Craig Santos Perez

when the tide

of silence

rises

say “ocean”

then with the paddle

of your tongue

rearrange

the letters to form

“canoe”

For more information about Craig Santos Perez, please click here. Today’s poem was originally published by the Academy of American Poets on May 22, 2020.
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