all of these theories
have to do with dark magic
basically…
when we have our black masses
and we raise your sourdough to satan
we chant hocus pocus

because I was around my aunt
who I feel particularly close to
who can understand my deep longing to be korean
and by saying simple things like
I smile like my mother
make me feel like I’m not a mistake
or some random convergence
or fell from the sky

After eating a large meal
of raw sea crustaceans (you had to peal off
the hard shell, which revealed
shapeless but firm squid-like
meat with several moving tendrils,
then dip it in a creamy butter sauce
with basil.
The meal made me very ill)…
I went to the opera house and saw
a modernist work called “Polygon.”

singing
humanity’s attempt to make contact
with the region of the shapes: maybe
the place where perfect polygons dwell
represents a firmament that can be reached
and we can perfect our forms. Or perhaps,
the basic triangles and rectangles were
the smooth, idealized bodies of angels.
At any rate, I left the opera reflecting
on the roughness of the human body/experience.

today i want to meditate
on the quiet
profundity of fortune cookies

(sometimes they scold!)

this has always been true…
whenever i’ve pursued
something meaningful
i’ve always found
God there

i think you’ve said this to me before
but it was one of the truest
things you’ve ever said

that sacrifice by definition requires love

not only in the act of making an offering
but in loving the object
to be sacrificed

it’s a funny ritual
we rub ashes on our body
to remind us of death
but we don’t rub amniotic fluid on us
to remind us of
birth

this is my image of who i am
alone in my office
talking about metaphysical conceits
and sex

my favorite is a setting of a german poem that talks about autumn leaves
falling…
their silver attracting the soul

and as i reflect on the leaves drifting down
my soul wings skyward