My body contains multiplicities. I am crushed particles of ancient sedimentary and metamorphic rock. I am giant kelp that grew in a marine forest beneath offshore oil platforms. I am the salt taken into these veins and released into this flesh with the sun. I am ground limestone. I am the rain. I am dirt that has been hidden under the surface of Los Angeles for a hundred years. I am the coarse, dead fibers of non-native palm trees brought to this land as props for a fantasy that didn’t include me. I am algae and ground pig bones and slippery palm oil, processed with bleach to appear clear. I am arsenic. And lead. I am aluminum at one hundred times the expected concentration. I am 3240 mg of iron per kg. I am evidence. I am history. I am waste. I am also the seeds of repair. I am millions of spores from some of the only organisms in existence that can metabolize my poisons. I am the promise of sorghum and sunflower. I am mycelium feasting on exudates from my nascent roots and enveloping my fragile tips with resiliency. I am biodegradable. My name is Joule.