Chorus (androgynous): ‘Find me So that I will exist, find my navel So that it will exist, find my nipples So that they will exist, find every hair Of my belly, I am good (or I am bad), Find me.’   I. This poem never ceases to find me. But how does it manage—against all difference and distance—to do so?   II. The poem begins with the plural assertion of a chorus: we are instructed to hear this as a collective voice, a “being numerous.” But immediately, at the very colon that commences it, the poem enacts its first turn (or, more aptly, its first tack).1 Instead of “Find us,” the chorus androgynous intones: “Find me.” Find the foundered, the lone, the shipwrecked and singular “me.” “We are…