in·su·lar

/ˈins(y)ələr/
adjective

1. ignorant of or uninterested in cultures, ideas, or peoples outside one's own experience.
"a stubbornly insular farming people"

synonyms: narrow-minded, limited, blinkered, restricted, inward-looking, conventional, parochial, provincial, small-town, localist, small-minded, petty-minded, petty, close-minded, short-sighted, myopic, hidebound, dyed-in-the-wool, diehard, set, set in one's ways, inflexible, dogmatic, rigid, entrenched, illiberal, intolerant, prejudiced, bigoted, biased, partisan, sectarian, xenophobic, discriminatory; More

2. relating to or from an island.
"the movement of goods of insular origin"

Craig Santos Perez opens up "Hacha" with a reference to "The Insular Cases," [9] from the 1901 "supreme court" ["Some writers put quotes around words they want to distance themselves from. Quotation marks used this way are commonly called scare quotes or shudder quotes. It’s a way of implying that you’re using a term in an unusual way or that you don’t necessarily approve of it"-Grammarly website] This reference is meant to use as a lens through which to read this collection of poetry. The "supreme court" intends one meaning, Santos, the other. I looked up these cases and realized I know too little about "my" "government."

The preface [7] has both an excerpt from the u.s. constitution and the bible, two foreign outside forces that are insular [def.1] forces, forced into the insular [def.2] culture of Guahan [Guam]. Colonialism is the ocean where Guahan does not exist as a country, but as a "territory" or possession essentially of colonialism. Perez tries to locate his body on this "map" and within this "territory,"

"On some maps, Guam doesn't exist; I point to an empty space in the

Pacific and say, "I'm from here." On some maps, Guam is a small, 

unnamed island; I say; "I'm from this unnamed place." On some maps,

Guam is named, Guam, U.S.A." I say, "I'm from a territory of the United

States." On some maps, Guam is named, simply "Guam";

I say, "I am from Guam."

The preface was key as to how I read the rest of the poems. I had a feeling of not belonging, of feeling small in a vast ocean, of feeling noticed for all of the wrong reasons, of trusting and being subsumed by other cultures because of my insularity.

"In the ocean of English words, the Chamorro words in this collection remain insular, struggling to emerge within their own "excerpted space." These poems are an attempt to begin re-territorializing the Chamorro language in relation to my own body, by way of the page." (12).

Perez is using the second definition in its truest form, to emerge from colonialism and flourish on an island that has been colonized many times over. He explores the Chamorro words as relating to the island, as relating to his body that is its own island within the realm of his origin on Guahan. His move from this island onto the land of one of its colonizers, America, carrying with him the very essence of his home and trying to recall the language that was wrung out of himself, history, and the land itself by colonialism.

In "from LISIENSAN GA'LAGO," Perez ends the poem with the word insular, at the bottom of the page, with the word "insular." The series of poems in section V. are about the Japanese occupation of Guam during the war. Here once again the word is used with its dual meanings by the poet concurrently to speak of the bracketed Japanese occupation within American colonialism. Perez uses brackets ["Square brackets are mainly used to enclose words added by someone other than the original writer or speaker, typically in order to clarify the situation. Sometimes, when quoting a person or document, adding a word or two is necessary to provide enough context for the quote to make sense. It’s extremely important to use brackets when you change a direct quote—forgetting to add them results in a misquote. - Grammarly website] in this way in many of his poems. Inserting meaning and offering translation, as in the poem 

"from TA (LA) YA"

             "-and in the caves at Tinta men and women hide beneath other dead bodies

"mail, mail" the soldiers said to make sure everyone was dead [come, come]

                                             [ahi, play dead. close your eyes. hold your breath]

Perez's use of both quotation marks and brackets are what give the poems dimension and meaning. They are ingenious uses of tools of the craft that I have not seen used quite this way. They not only add multiple layers to his poems, like waves of understanding that wash over you the further into the collection you wade, but they are a communication device that are multi-faceted in their presentation of meaning, from poet to reader. They are an honest and genuine way for the poet to say, "Listen, to what I have to tell you so that you may understand." This may be my favorite collection of poetry yet.

I found this interview with the poet where he talks about "Hacha" and the importance of docupoetics in terms of the human within the historical:

Craig Santos Perez: To me, voice is an important element of docupoetics. Voice insists on the personal and the human within historical, political, cultural, and everyday documents and/or the documentation the past and the present. In my own work, this means foregrounding my own voice (thoughts, emotions, and perceptions) on a given topic, or the voices of my family whose lives were shaped by larger colonial forces that I am documenting. Part of this impulse is decolonial in the sense that our indigenous voices are often ignored or silenced in the documents and documentations of Guam history. Whereas the lyric is driven by voice, the docupoem emplaces voice within the historical and textual materiality of other contexts—highlighting the tension between voice and historiography.
https://coloradoreview.colostate.edu/interview-with-craig-santos-perez/