i found god in a bowl of chinese mustard yeah he was just sitting there shimmering and grinning the way large bowls of mustard sometimes do humbleproud, heaven-roasted and perhaps a little slutty? i was so innocent back then, so virgin, so milk bone all that changed when i dipped into his yellow heart sweet at first it burned raw brain babble into biblical boil heat swelled hallowed hell i, inflamed i, in tears lean back into synaptic-back-snap-back-flip-eggroll-dip oblivion and floated there for a yellow minute then slapdash burn-crash into heat rash body knots, fist pounding table to the rhythm of repent! repent! repent! rapture-tingling soul-strip, snot dripping from my chin into little fire puddles on a chinese take-out menu slash placemat slash liability waiver slash chemical sutra slash contract to bring back a flower from a place with no sorrow slash star chart slash ecstasy
posted for dverse open link night
jalopy dreams 
Excuse me waiter, there’s a Mogawi in my mustard. Yo soy caliente!
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my apologies sir, did you not order the mogawi dijon? it is today’s special. thank you brendan, glad you enjoyed this
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Lord that is good! God a little slutty? How did we know that without having said it out loud until now? “so milk bone…” so unexpected, but so right. The language crash without air bags engulfing the reader in flames, we are thrown from the car of our normal routines.
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language crash is right… it’s a hell of a pile-up. thank you sir, this was fun to write, and the research was even more fun.
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Loe the fact that Chinese mustard was the elixir for your ramblings. Stunning write!
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thank you linda, glad you enjoyed this
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Boy do I know this feeling. You nailed it so brilliantly. This is how I feel about certain poetry, music, art — like the intense, full-body-quake way I feel about it could keep me out of heaven … and could I give it up? Such an ongoing struggle, fighting the passions and idolatry that make us who we are.
Your mind, friend — it’s filled with such power, such skill. Again, I am beyond honored to get to read anything you write. Thank you for posting, even if only every few months (or years, if that’s what it comes to). Getting to read you at all is such a huge gift.
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I love this whole section:
“humbleproud, heaven-roasted
and
perhaps
a little slutty?”
… but “humbleproud” is especially good smash-art; of course, “slutty” is the most attention-grabbing bite of the piece because it’s so shocking and absurd, but it really makes you think … I mean, whether you’re pondering real God, small god (an idol), or Satan, each is definitely intent on “getting around” and “spreading.”
This part is awesome:
“sweet at first it burned raw brain babble into biblical boil
heat swelled hallowed hell”
… and as I’m thinking, sheesh, I want to see this performed, I am reminded I can at least hear it. So thank you, in advance, for the recording.
To me, this says everything I love about poetry:
“lean back into synaptic-back-snap-back-flip-eggroll-dip oblivion”
… you can take absolutely any dadgum topic and write poetry about. It’s the sound and the creativity that can turn any little bite of life into an orgasm. Poetry doesn’t have to be about something important or earth-shattering. It can be about a totally regular moment that you want to make magical and artsy. That being said, it’s also a powerful and effective metaphor, embedding lust or love for a woman, for example.
“and floated there
for a yellow minute”
… I love “yellow minute” so much. 🙂
“slapdash burn-crash into heat rash body knots”
… that elates my senses; it does to me what it says
“snot dripping from my chin into little fire puddles”
… this makes me think of my love affair with pho 🙂
“to bring back a flower from a place with no sorrow”
… Oh, wow. That got really deep in a hurry. That is incredible and packs the punch of a stellar senryu. A real flower or a woman. I mean, this could really go anywhere and makes me want to go back and start the whole thing again.
Thank you again for sacrificing the time to share your mind. I know you don’t have enough free time to be here, but you are. I am grateful.
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now that i read it again, heaven roasted feels a little weak. i think i need to change that to “deviled heaven” i think i like that better. thank you shawna, glad you liked this. yes, i wish i had more free time… but i’m trying to be here.
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So much to love in this… the surprise, but also the pain it caused… most excellent.
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thank you sir, glad you enjoyed this
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