Ten poems by the Pushcart Prize-winning poet, author, editor and translator of over 15 books and chapbooks, whose memoir, Correctional, is forthcoming in 2021 from University of Wisconsin Press, as part of World Poetry/Prose Portoflio, curated by Sudeep Sen
Gayatri Mantra
translated from the Sanskrit by Ravi Shankar
Om Bhur bhuvah svah
Tat savitur varenyam
Bhargo Devasya dheemahi
Dheeyo yonah prachodayaat
— The Rig Veda (10:16:3)
Oh manifest and unmanifest,
wave and ray of breath,
red lotus of insight,
transfix us from eye to navel
to throat, under canopy of stars
spring from soil in an unbroken
arc of light that we might
immerse ourselves until lit
from within like the sun itself.
Misreading Shelter in Place as Swelter in Lace
with Sara Cahill Marron
A spring so beautiful it gives me a headache
winter jasmine climbs my spoked black chair
screentalking hours away in lotus pose
you telling me how much you miss me
clutching yourself while you say it
I hit the end button, you don’t call back.
A headache so jasmine it clings to the cortex
a floor-length drape that obscures any view
from the window. Let the nape of your neck
be the power of a prime and I a positive integer
for every vertex ∝ our entwined fingers, show
the nonzero code word its own guttural syntax
∴ Keywords cream heavy droplets in morning
blackness coffee dark and deep searching: engine
optimizing things I saw today. Behind the masks
we are all eyes now, bump against baser desires
(lips behind fabric)*(shield touch, disease)
remembering an interlacing of longer sums.
a nun’s habit, not a niqab’s notion, though both rise
from some dead man’s mouth like ≠, ever ≠ and <,
though what the mask conceals reveals truer
impurity, a velveteen world of prohibited touch.
Beneath cloth, my breath dampens the outside
of my lips and I only taste the salt of myself.
Phenomenal Numen
Bald-headed metaphysicians wonder if I’m real,
You cannot taste me nor touch me nor even cop a feel.
But when I start to gust,
They only notice the waves against their keel.
Without words, I say,
It’s in the Japanese Kami,
The Polynesian mana,
The Anglo-Saxon wod,
The Semitic shekhinah,
I’m a numen.
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal numen,
That’s me.
I materialize in the mind
Quite spontaneously,
Leaving behind
A gift for those who own
Eyes but cannot see.
Like a feeling set free,
The holy is a priori.
I say,
It’s the thing-in-itself,
And the heat from the chair
Left behind by the one
Who sits everywhere.
I’m illuminated
Numinously.
Luminous numen,
That’s me.
A mysterium tremendum
Is what you sense in me.
You try so hard
But will stay barred
From my inner mystery.
Even when I reveal myself
You’ll claim you cannot see.
I say,
It’s in the dread of my force,
The wing of my awe,
The tao of my telling
Unwritten by law.
I’m a numen
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal numen,
That’s me.
Tokyo Tanka
The man in bathing
ape color-camo sweatpants
makes origami
dragons in the next bus seat.
I can’t fold my city map.
Certainty is stone.
Being perplexed is enough
over rice noodles
the steam rises, disappears
like potentiality.
The Beijing man sports
a surgical mask because
of air pollution.
The Tokyo woman wears hers,
being sick, not to spread germs.
“We have decided
not to die,” the one title
I can decipher.
Reversible destiny
lofts to shake tenants awake.
Busukawa chin
in a geisha’s silken lap
gazes with disregard
while being stroked and tickled.
Before a photo, they’re gone.
Of people, there are
two kinds: some who love robots
and some Godzilla.
The floating paper lanterns
fade into the horizon.
“Can a prefecture
be hood? Roppongi Harlem,
Kabukicho Compton,
Yakuza instead of Bloods?”
I ask his tattooed forehead.
The art of placing
stones into wavering plinths
stable in the wind.
The place of art in making
love shares a similar trait.
Mitsui cider,
Ashai beer, umbrellas,
novels, omikuji
(random fortunes), batteries:
some things in vending machines.
Home for time once spent
with Vector the Crocodile
and Miracle World’s
Alex Kidd, Akhibara’s
retro Sega multiverse.
During rush hour,
oshiya, or “passenger
arrangers” (pushers!)
jam commuters onto packed
subway trains with white gloved hands.
The washlet control
panels have proximity
sensors on heated
seats, adjustable spraying
bidets, even masking sounds.
Nigerian touts
promise cheap booze and women.
The bass pounds above
strobe lights flickering, a man
in a moonsuit plays bouncer.
Ganguro translates
to bold black faced girl in white
concealer, hazard
tape bright heels, skirt, scissorhand
fingernails and a deep tan.
When Gwyn Stefani
rocked a bindi, no one cared,
not Indian me.
Appropriation, surely,
yet she made being brown cool.
Typhoon Jongdari
hurtles towards the mainland
darkening the skies
inverting umbrellas, wind
blotting out our voices.
The infernal roar
when the shoji sliding door
opens must be a circle
of hell with the name Stardust.
No. A pachinko parlour.
Quadruple-decker
elevators rise and fall
(neon is passé)
shadows of woodern cladding
meant to emulate bamboo.
Ni ichi ichi
ni, each step running water.
Otherwise beware
Shibuya Crossing.
Spill like a marble. Scramble.
Underground nation,
banks of locker glowing red
or green, space to stash
your stuff. What gets forgotten
lives unseen with new purpose.
I missed Basho’s hut,
its thatched roof with wide rice fields
stretching from bamboo
groves and fallen persimmons
to the Katsura River.
Taking the stillness
off the zabutan is hard
work for noise too easily
intrudes once the door opens
and the dead world is reborn.
Gaijin discouraged,
nothing subtle in his words.
The reason, my friend
explains, some salarymen
feel shamed not to know English.
Harujuku girls
are like Nara deer confronted
with deer crackers.
They can turn into monsters
if you don't feed them enough.
Before his manga
obsession and his denim
fetishization
my friend Satoru Saito
had a rat rot in his room.
100 Yen Shop:
pedicure pad animals
hand grips, sushi shaped
key rings, kanji drill books, dolls,
dokodemo caps. What else?
The sunlight shining
through the leaves of the forest
dapples the damp earth.
In Japanese, there’s a word
for this dance: komorebi.
In the land of cat
cafés, I just want to find
a sumo stable.
The barista makes matcha,
wears his hair in a topknot.
On an unlit stick
of incense two cicadas
leave behind brittle
shells to return underground.
What’s most vulnerable, concealed.
Fragility: screens
made from translucent paper.
Mono no aware:
cherry blossom petals’ bell
peals, then disappears. Let go.
The Trouble with Clairvoyance
listen to each name
pasted on this field
tongues to discover
an angle of incidence
to revel in the time
the lines rhymed
when it did not feel
blanketed over
waiting for insight
longing for being
embraced, nurtured
understood
well and deeply
a certain particularity
snuck like bone
in every single body
whatever recumbent
pose or reshaping
posture of motion
it might take in light
of this reading
like bacteria passing
through a membrane
that if unconscious
an osmotic process
still marks distance
through alteration
a single cell doubled
again doubled
again doubled
reduced to ciphers
impossible to parse
when always moving
slightly ahead of itself
with a momentum
that pulls forever
forward until abruptly
it stops
only to restart again.
Mistranslated Glossary of Rodeo Lexicon
for Tim Sandlin
Added Money
Budget Deficit = Net Savings + Trade Deficit − Investment
Aggregate
net result of knowing and applying all defined terms. Not to be confused with composite materials or news tickers.
Arm Jerker
to marketing and promotion what Les Parapluies de Cherbourg is to handkerchiefs.
Association Saddle
1.1 The principal Sitter shall be as set forth in the Articles of Organization. These By-
Laws, the powers in all matters concerning conduct and regulation, the duration and
quality of the Sitting and any damage that might therewith ensue shall be subject to such
provisions in regard thereto, if any, as are set forth in the Articles of Organization as
from time to time in effect.
2.1 The members of the Association in Competition are its Adhering Bodies.
2.2 Only under extraordinary circumstances might the Association admit a suitably
designated additional Adhering Body to take the place of the original Sitter. A Sitter may
appoint as proxy only an adult member of his or her household weighing as much as but
no more than the Sitter at weigh-in.
2.3 The Rump in question will be owned and controlled by the Sitter, who takes full
responsibility for the salubrious or injurious effects that result from the Sitting.
3.1 Any rights of copyright hereunder shall not be exclusive and can be virally
transmitted in video, photo and textual form to any number of print or electronic media
outlets or private owned lists that the Association may ordain suitable, thereby
marketing the product to the fullest. Any nonmonetary gains shall accrue directly to the
memories of the Adhering Bodies.
Ball Out
sudden burst of chutzpah, bravura or sisu in the waning moments of any endeavor
Bareback Riding
raw man on man action for pigs, bears, cubs and twinks.
Bareback Rigging
staging the aforementioned on camera.
Barrier
1. a fence of sensors and spotlights along the Mexican border.
2. an exploit once known as mooning.
Barrel Racing
dissembling the staves back into oak and the hoops back into ore.
Body Roll
sagging so low you could see our boxers, yo!
Boot the Bull
giving up the thorny path of prevarication to let the light of Jesus shine into your life.
Break Away Calf Roping
application of a synergistic blend of lanolin, beeswax and colloidal silver in ointment form to relieve the pain, itching and inflammation.
Break Away Roping
Tarzan-like escape from a rehab clinic with vines or cables.
Buford or Pup
born blind and deaf in a litter among the thugs.
Bull Riding
variable speed buck and spin control in custom hides. Also known as taming “the bucking machine.” See: John Travolta and Debra Winger.
Calf Roping (on Foot)
thickened areas of dead skin painful to put pressure on.
Cantle Boarding
a synergy of paraffin fakie frontsides and aromatherapy nose grabs, harnessing the wick to the extreme!
Catch as Catch Can
some combination of grappling, hair tearing, fish-hooking, groin clawing, sternum elbowing, eye gouging, lip tearing, kidney thumping, ear biting, nerve numbing, stomping and pummeling that prepares one for reconstructive surgery or the mixed martial arts.
Chute Dogging
one of the basic tenets of Freeganism, or “limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources.” Also known as binning, alley surfing, curbing, shopping at the D-mart, garbage gleaning, dump-weaseling, tatting, skally-wagging or trashing.
Community Loop
Yves confessed to Man who chided Max who was fucking Joan who hadn’t told André he wasn’t straight but had implied as much to René while berating Luis for not inviting Marcel as they all drove to Yves’ house for a dinner party.
Cover
a fake moustache or heavy metal ballad performed with harmonica and Moog synthesizers.
Cross Fire
early film noir.
Cutting
four times as many females than males have used sharp edged objects in self-harm then worn turtlenecks and long sleeves to hide the evidence.
Cutting Pen
the bathroom mirror.
Dallying Off (Dally)
spending a workday lunch in the park for too long dreaming of being an urbane bon vivant having an affair with a minimum wage honey to take the mind off its troubles.
Daylighting
far in the daylight haze among the piles
as of some fed up drone sacked out by lunch
when all is dull, and task and day with wail
pass too slowly to even put off doing work
(after Tennyson’s “The Passing of Arthur”)
Dogfall
a windfall gain that comes with a concomitant burden that makes its value dubious. Like an unexpected inheritance that is not monetary but in the form of a pit bull kennel, complete with leather leashes, syringes, pry bars, breeding stand and explicit instructions prohibiting a sale.
Dogging
banging a stranger in public or talking smack behind someone’s back. Not to be confused with prairie dogging.
Dragger or Trotter
piece of refuse like masking tape or leaf with sap on it that clings to the shoe.
Fading
(from Phaedrus’ treatment at the hands of Socrates) to dismiss or to mock. As in “I faded the fool right to his momma’s face.”
Fanning
going on a blitz shopping for clothes with your team’s logo, buying season tickets, listening to sports talk radio, and meditating on such bits of gospel as “when your running game is nor working, you’ve got to go to the air.”
Flag Racing
1. first one to the top of the pole gets the worst abrasions.
2. an oxymoron like a Cherokee Pioneer or freezer burn. See also: the flagging race and steer riding.
Fleaster
the most important feast in the Wingless Insect liturgical year, celebrated in observance of the fact that from the cycle of larva, pupa and imago, new larva is constantly produced. Secular celebrations involve the capering of a Fleaster Bunny.
Floating
perpetually leaving one or two major requirements undone so graduation day is put off for as long as possible.
Freight Trained
being interrupted while in the process of saying something particularly witty.
Goat Dressing
1 stick butter
2 cloves of fresh garlic, minced
1 teaspoon lime juice
1 tablespoon Soy Sauce
1 tablespoon Worcestershire Sauce
1 tablespoon Celery Salt
1/2 teaspoon each, Rosemary, Basil, Savory and Oregano
1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper
Hat Bender
something so strange that it boggles the mind to contemplate. Like the international curiosity in Brittney Spears.
Hazer
one responsible for the procurement of goats, duct tape, paddles, pantyhose and tasers.
Headhunter
nickname for a military recruiter.
Hickeyed
not as pumpkin pie-eyed as the bumpkin or bleared with whiskey as the redneck but specked with the colorful pleasures of the hog farm.
Hot-Shot
(disambiguation) a generic term that describe all types of electric shocking devices.
(disambiguation) solid iron cannonballs heated, then fired from cannon
bacteria that’s invaded the bladder. Can be tested for with a swab.
Hung Up
progression from attraction to idealization, from anxiety to fear of abandonment, from tunnel vision to stalking.
Lap and Tap
1. segueing from a Blaze Starr to a Fred Astaire number.
2. victory celebration of a championship swimmer that involves aquatic sex.
3. drinking water out of a dog bowl and begging for more.
Lounger
made of perspex acrylic complete with backrest that adjusts from full upright to horizontal and pull-out tray to hold cocktails. Uses industrial strength magnetism to offer a genuine floating sensation and no-fixed-means-of-support.
Marking Out (Marked Out)
use of the teeth in kissing to particularly noisy effect. Best done with clash of braces. Once one’s teeth are sore, one is officially considered to be “marked out.”
Mash Up
to have humorous forms to call on if performance of the animal is inferior, like the ‘feast of fools’
(festa sultorum) and free ‘Easter laughter’ (risus pasachalis). This is not a spectacle seen by the
people; they live in it. Contestants who are “no shows” for carnival festivities or who don’t wear
long-sleeve shirts, long pants, western hat, and boots that minimally cover the ankle and have a heel will be disqualified. Degradation, in the case of hindered performance in the stall, digs a
bodily grave for a new birth. Whether fools or clowns. Goats or steers.
(mash up of the International Gay Rodeo Association (IGRA) rules and Mikhail
Bakhtin’s Rabelais and His World. Translated by Helene Iswolsky)
Pegging
(disambiguation) defining trait of Bob, or Bend-over boyfriend
(disambiguation) to narrow cuff-size by folding over and rolling.
knocking someone upside the head when least expected.
Pick-up Man
someone with optional metrosexual characteristics such as shaved chest and gelled hair who has studied in the arts of the seduction community and can employ such subtle psychological strategies as backhanded compliments and pre-scripted conversations. Works best in the company of the Wing Man.
Pole Bending
the Cirque du Soleil of the Kama Sutra. Also known as penile puppetry and genital origami. Can be practiced solo or with a partner.
Poly
multilayered like a wedding cake, born with an extra digit, constructed from one or more variable and constant, synthetic as neoprene, having as many corners as sides, the Renaissance ideal, proof that lying causes side-effects, flared as bell-bottoms, prismatic and multilingual, a blinded Cyclops, hinged in sections, way too much love for just one person.
Quarter Horse
one half a centaur.
Quit the Cow
marital abandonment.
Rake
(disambiguation) a lascivious aristocrat during the English Restoration (1660-1688) as
in Aphra Behn’s The Rover
(disambiguation) from orgy to Bedlam in under ten seconds
(disambiguation) no flop, no drop, otherwise a percentage for compensation
to run one’s fingers over a patch of skin where once there was hair.
Reata
to have a second Italian meal at the same sitting.
Re-ride
play again for two extra credits.
Rough Stock
bouillon that has sat in the cupboard so long it has fuzzed mold.
Rowel
rut-ro Raggy rand me a rowel! Rats roovy.
Scooter
term of ridicule related to youth or inexperience. As in “hey scooter, can’t keep up with the motorbikes, huh?”
Spur
representing the ACC, it’s the Big Fundamental.
Spurring Lick
a salt deposit that contains salmonella.
Star Gazer
aficionado of fuzzbox and “wall of sound” guitars overdubbed with downtempo sensations of gliding and hovering.
Steer Decorating
recommend upholstery and mildew-resistant slipcovers to brighten a sunroom.
Steer Riding
an oxymoron like a Cherokee Pioneer or freezer burn. See also: ride steering and flag racing.
Stirrups
Gary Glitter, “The Famous Instigator.”
String
infinitely thin oscillating filaments that reconcile gravitational forces with quantum mechanics.
Suicide Wrap
low density polyethylene film (or a similar material) of not less than 150 micrometers in thickness
Suitcase Handle
back hair aided by chemical stimulants to grow to graspable extremities
Sun Fisher
even on a chariot drawn by seven mares, Suriya was blinded by Sanjna.
Team Roping
tricking the boss into taking the staff out to lunch to discuss new initiatives.
Tie-down Roping
use of straps, harnesses, hogties and padlocks in edge-play; governed by mutually consensual safe-words.
Whipped Down
sleeping in a bed of mashed potatoes.
Wild Drag Race
1. Teri Yaki and her lip-syncing queens use dildos as batons.
2. the xenophobia that lurks at the center of certain reading practices.
3. laying mad rubber down before the Christmas Tree flashes.
Working Cow Horse
milking those udders until you don’t hear a drop of moo.
Latin for Crown
1.
What happens to cuddle parties and the sandaled dude
holding out the “Free Hugs” sign during a pandemic?
While I don’t want to come across as dismissive or rude,
I fear your offer of an elbow bump feels rather academic,
by which I mean rubbish. Once when we were younger,
did you ever think we would be nostalgic for a handshake?
Scientists studying rhesus monkeys call it skin hunger,
the way mammals long for touch even when it’s as fake
as a pat on the back meant to make us feel slightly better
when a lapdog has died. I find myself wishing for a stranger
to rub against my hip on the subway or pass me a letter-
press book in the library without worrying about danger,
about germs, about tracking down a N95 respirator mask.
Post-corona, getting a massage feels like an essential task.
2.
Post-corona, getting a massage feels like an essential task,
but so does donating blood, eating pancakes at a diner,
riding a city bus, going to a ballgame equipped with a flask
of rye to share with your friends, booking an ocean-liner
cruise to some warm, tropical place. All of it feels urgent,
already tinged with nostalgia for the way we used to live.
Now we stress about toilet paper or laundry detergent,
and on the air, a rightwing shock-jock simply can’t forgive
the Chinese for eating bat, for infecting us with kung-flu,
and I’d like to flatten him, if I’m being honest, for fear-
mongering and race-baiting at a time when another’s shoe
fits our own foot perfectly regardless of which hemisphere
we lay our head down. Sometimes it takes a virus to reveal
how much bigotry our country still collectively conceals.
3.
How much bigotry our country still collectively conceals
should not be surprising given that our founding fathers
owned slaves, that it was legal to have segregated meals
into the 1960s, and of course, there’s jail. What bothers
me is how unbothered we are by our colonialist history.
Back then, the pilgrims brought over on the Mayflower,
not just provisions, but disease, so it remains no mystery
how the indigenous Americans succumbed to the power
of these men with muskets and women with smallpox.
Now they are memorialized but not remembered in state
names, their languages as endangered as Darwin’s fox,
their customs dying, yet turned into tropes to appropriate.
Maybe shelter-in-place is the great equalizer, leaving us
alone with our own biases, our own blindness to discuss.
4.
Alone with our own biases, our own blindness to discuss
while in quarantine at home with our families, depression
and domestic violence are on the rise worldwide, plus
the lack of sunlight is weakening our bones. An expression
of this might be in those idiomatic phrases like ‘stir crazy’
or ‘cabin fever,’ though we need to coin something for our
own time like ‘corona claustrophobia.’ It remains so hazy
how this all began and though we count down each hour,
so uncertain when any of us might return to any facsimile
of normality. In Italy, on TV, stapled to a crate of donated
medical supplies is Seneca: “We are waves of the same sea,
leaves of the same tree, flowers of the same garden.” Fated
in a Stoic universe to be clock-shards, fragments of God,
molecules from distant nebulas, made of the same sod.
5.
Molecules from distant nebulas, made of the same sod
and genetic error as bacteria and viruses, hog-nosed bats
and hogs alike, the perfectly symmetrical and the flawed,
we are human before we are astronauts or bureaucrats,
Chinese or Italian or American. Perhaps that’s the moral
of contagion, that we are not so different from one another,
that we are composed of the same pastures, peaks, coral,
microorganisms and planetary dust; you were my mother
once and I was yours in a past life, and whatever arises
in you ascends in me as well. Or is that too naïve and new
age to resonate? For on the flip side, disease symbolizes
existential nihilism, for nothing of value seems to accrue
from senseless death that affects the kind and the mean
indiscriminately for there’s no karma in COVID-19.
6.
Indiscriminately, for there’s no karma in COVID-19,
germs disperse from a cough in droplets through the air
to infect anyone near, to remain on surfaces, unclean
fomites like doorknobs or dishes that we might share
unaware we are transmitting an infectious organism
with our neighbors the way we might hand out candy
on Halloween. Once in our lungs, the mechanism
of the respiratory tract’s lining—the modus operandi
and sustenance of life itself—grows inflamed, infects
the air sacs, resulting in pneumonia and in some, death.
That’s why we are all on lockdown, with the side effects
of feeling anxious, hypochondriac, worrying each breath
might be contaminated by invisible, insidious particles,
a fear compounded by the barrage of newspaper articles.
7.
A fear compounded by the barrage of newspaper articles,
case studies, infographics of infection and fatality rates,
tweets from politicians and pundits, not-quite-cathartical
warnings from virologists, and daily, the names and dates
of the deceased. No vaccine, nor clarity on when this crisis
might eventually cease. The all-encompassing membrane
of the nation-state, like a cell-wall that has undergone lysis,
burst open, no longer the purview of a political campaign.
In our face masks, we are all wearing burqas and turbans.
Walking on two feet or moving through space in a wheel-
chair, we sprout leaves, move tides, are not rural, nor urban,
are part barrier reef and rainforest, fruit bat and monk seal.
Confined alone and afraid, our destiny happens to include
what happens to cuddle parties and the sandaled dude.
Unwrap a dream egg deviled
decades ago with coriander,
chutney and extra mayonnaise
from the wadded sweat sock
at the bottom of a hamper.
Think again of that synonym
for boils: furuncles. Fur uncles!
The riotously scraggly unwashed
faintly damp beard a porthole
of haldi ka halwa breath a strange
man who wants you to straddle
his knee to be bounced spittles
into your face at the Diwali party.
Weeping, oozing, crusting over
memory that fails to remember
whatever happens next, chooses
only to preserve in its compost
a rotting snapshot of being lost
in a basement having chewed
to pulp an overripe banana bajji
washed down with a curdled salt
lassi and being abruptly cornered
by someone unrelated to you
but called "uncle" nonetheless.
All you want to do is retch.
What makes my Thinker think is that he thinks
not only with chin-stroke and furrowed brow,
a quizzical half-smile, half-frown, sans guile,
but that he hits the pause button on the circus,
the cirrhosis, the culture of reactionary outrage
that dispels depth with its own dazzling counter-
epic, a very un-Vedic, uncritical, Dramayanan.
The Brain in the Vat and Schrodinger's cat?
All part of the elevator pitch for The Matrix.
I turn to plead, helplessly, for each family to see
the insanity of facility fees and honorary degrees,
how the sun darkens our skin yet lightens our hair.
Statisticians claim that HMM without the ellipsis
is a hidden Markov model where the probability
of each event depends only on the state
of the previous event, except that the states
in question are all unobservable. Hmm...
?
Stirred by the sodden tea bag
squished under the scalloped
edge of the silver sugar spoon,
by the honey bead that glints
amber from the jar's wide lip,
by slipping a moisturized hand
into a warm oven mitt, by rubbing
the ridged nibs of a bitter gourd.
Sext me your plinth and I'll raise
the column. Whisper 'imbroglio'
when the shower steams too thick to see.
Let doorknobs throb in your fist.
Linger on dusk's svelte syllables,
each cricket-caress tossing moon-
moaning light, the ache of being
alive to such delirious filthiness.