The Loba Longs For Remembrance In The Bardo Poem by Diane di Prima

Shall we say that the streets were littered
w/ half-eaten food
dry leaves, debris of plastic & paper

Shall we remember the half-mad whores
who walked on them
Eyes black as Egypt: al-Khem
the women
of that night?

Shall we
recall the quarter moons of that era
their desperation
the hopelessness of the wind
that flew out of Dead Center to its
target in our hearts

What shall we keep of the hard shells
of our hands
the cloven claws held out to beg
held close
to keep what ran like sand?

Shall we able to name the skeletons
ostrich & pachyderm

Who will remember the bleakness of this time?
Who will recall it, later?