when we go out in public
we hope
we look
alright.
“alight”
can mean
many different
things,
depending
entirely
on where
and when
one is,
entirely
on who
one thinks
they are,
on how
one wishes
to be
perceived.
i combined
red lentils
and
yellow potatoes
and
clear water
and
cooked them together until soft.
i added
white coconut oil
and
black pepper.
i added turmeric.
pink salt.
i tore a
large handful of
sourdough bread
and
dipped it into the lentils
and
potatoes.
a redundancy of
carbohydrates
and
i wish i had more.
some people
do not notice
when the shoe they are
wearing
squeaks
while they walk.
some people notice nothing else.
some people dive through dumpsters
to find their clothing.
some people discard
a squeaky shoe,
otherwise
brand new.
while walking around
a city
as a form of
vacation
i stopped
at various restaurants
and cafes.
i had a book
with me,
a collection
of zen buddhist talks
from the 6th century CE.
i ate many delicious foods.
i drank gourmet decaffeinated coffee
with thick steamed oat milk.
i read about
non-attachment.
i read about
releasing yourself from
the prison of desire.
when my food was gone,
more often than not,
i wanted more.
when the vacation was over
and
it was time to leave,
i wanted more.
it is winter
and where i am
there are not yet any
blooming flowers.
i look at the world
as though it is
a flower.
the world looks back at me,
sees me as
a handful of bread,
dipped into a
warm, smooth,
redundancy.
wanting more,
wanting nothing;
wanting,
just the same.
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