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  • Songs of the South
  • Humlåo Evans (bio)

Batto finds his father hanging            we'd seen binadu strung up so often            to get skinned and cleaned                        for smoking            i wonder if he even flinched

poor uncle Iro            i'm older now than you were when you            chose to return your soul to sasalaguan                                        and            can't help but wish i wasn't

family, we've all lost so many            and yet the ones I mourn most for            still walk among the living

                                    some memories                        and relationships            are just better laid to rest                                                even if we are blood

sometimes the ties that bind us will have to be cut

secrets i kept buried            from my own mother            haunt me            o' much more deeply

even the trenches of the Marianas            pale

to the (depths)                                    tinaddong [End Page 19]             of my failure                                                                        and shame                                                                                    mamahlao

she deserved better

even, at this moment            of remembrance,            the hollowed state            that my body shifts into ….

            caves of catatonic despair                        i get so lost within,in a game of hide and seek

            i'd easily outlast            even Yokoi.            nearly thirty years,            Shoichi Sama remained concealed            and sustained by the blessings of our land            body of Pontan

            blood of Fo'na

if i was to nginge' you                        o' Shoichi sama            would the essence and truth of                        taotao hallom tano' be recognized

i can't help but wonder what mysteries and knowledges            the landscape shared with you

i too            as a patgon with rays of            puti'on reflecting from mine eyes            once, lived in the jungle

            but now, still feel disconnected as ever

for the sake of family            and reputation                        tongues remained held            drowning us all in ignorance [End Page 20]

uncles that should be in prison            for what they have done            to their            nephews and nieces            only to be            shipped off            to the next country            readily available            to transgress stealthily            upon fresh family flesh

nothing cuts deeper than the shared knife [End Page 21]

Humlåo Evans

Humlåo Evans is an Atlanta based CHamoru artist working in movement studies, poetry, installation, video, and performance. Honoring ancestral and contemporary lineages, they utilize embodied somatic practices and storytelling to question the political histories and inherited violence our bodies carry to liberate and decondition memory, body, and the entanglements with identity and belonging.

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