Her words mothered so many, left us speechless while nourishing us with the strength to tell our own stories. Her words were home to those of us who live between ghosts and the living, sorrow and fierce joy. Thank you, Toni Morrison. I feel your spirit grow even greater, returning to the power from which you came. Your spirit, I believe, will never rest, but be in continuous bloom, forever fury, feeding us, our children, our children's...
Poised on chopsticks, the mortared rice
slick with oil and crumbled egg bits,
would never be enough to amend the hunger
of the day’s long hours.
lift the humble bowl with
flecks of bright green scallions and
miniature cubes of salty sausage
(cut perfectly to distract from that which is missing)
to your lower lip and open wide,
pushing with chopsticks
the avalanche of finely chopped
spare parts of yesterday’s meals
so that forgetting is done in shifts.
How to Eat Soft Tofu
Glistening purity quivers.
scooped from a wooden box
and placed carefully in a blue ceramic bowl
Of concentric ink blooms.
A Soft body,
curdled in its own milk.
Holding the ladle spoon gently,
dipping into near whiteness (near yellowness),
it slides down one's throat
A dream not quite remembered
but still breathing in one's silent mouth.