stoned deity

PERIL MAGAZINE / 2018 / FIRST PUBLISHED AS ‘OTHERWORDLY HYMNS’ / EDITED BY MINDY GILL

in the house where I was born


Indra & Agni make S O M A 

by the flames of my parent’s hearts.



the fortune teller is shrouded
in pale yellow flowers

                                    and when he clicks his fingers
      otherwordly hymns move in the clouds above us.



the woman with no eyes is a translucent widow
she floats above my hair like a stoned deity

the electric jellyfish                                              distrubutes

p   i   e c e     s                            of                  monastic blues


she
writes
    them
 neatly
on my
   lifeline
     with sugar
          from
       bones
   of spirits
       who laugh
    in a language
               I don’t understand.

this is what she wrote on my liver:

S O M A

S O M A

S O M A

look for it on a mountain
                    on a lake 
                       in a lily
                          it will be m   i    lllll  k yyyyyyyy.

the fortune teller coughs and grows another mouth
                                      & when he clicks his fingers
otherwordly hymns
                     move
              in the       fire
                                  below us.

the woman with no eyes sings to a mirror in the sky
a song about all the ways in which to live a double life

there are four hundred ways to live a double life
it is written on the love lines on both my hands.

A  L I O N 

A  L I O N

A  L I O N

A  L I O N with the head of a lotus sells S O M A in plastic bottles
                                                                                          on a street
                                                                     where one thousand
                                                                           magnolia flowers
                                                                                laugh
                                                                       in a language
                                                               I don’t
                                                                 
                                                      understand.

S O M A  could be ephredra
                               chicory
                               rhubarb
                               hashish

S O M A could be otherworldly hymns moving through time & space.


Indra & Agni wink from within the flames of my parent’s hearts

the burning of the milk is such a
                                             

                                             thrill.






Mark