I am Eratosthenes’ heir — the librarian
who measured earth. He took an obelisk,
a well, the sun, and made a triangle:
geometry, simple and accurate.
A cartographer of sorts — I measure
earth with words. I have drawn roads
and made them impassable. I have laid
railroad tracks to serve as escape
routes. I have surveyed rivers and
seas by touch and taste. And yet,
I ignore my point of departure or
destination: only know the lands
that lie in between.
Growing up under an obelisk’s shadow I
heard the story of genocide, of World
War II, read geography, poems,
swallowed them whole and learned — but
this journey never ceases.
Mapmaking is a life-long task