Identity Poem

-by Brandon Som

Jesus was fond of knock knock jokes and not so much wine, except maybe wine made from certain flowers, lilac or dandelion. It is Christian to say what you mean, which would suggest what you mean is always waiting to be announced, the way the archangel Gabriel came to Mary, nervous, as I understand it, with the task of announcing the birth of the baby Jesus. We say come out with it, come clean because meaning, like Mary, is pregnant, labored; and immaculate conception is in some sense, coming clean in such a way that it doesn't get around, that it is kept quiet or maybe just kept between angels. As I understand it, Jesus one evening came upon two girls catching crickets by lanterns. They were telling knock knock jokes. It was April, so they had blossoms, lilac or dandelion, stuck to the bottoms of their bare feet. And the angels, who always have something to say, and a quiet despair for the things they have to say, which is why they are angels, were now silent in the limbs of an olive tree, watching Jesus tell his knock knock joke to two girls, who asked, in unison, and without hesitation, who's there.

things are, are, are. i just had a sort of conversation about whether sad is the same even though there are a million million different ways to be sad. and the funny part is, i'm not sad. it was just one of those conversations about abstractions.

i am far behind on trying to think of a halloween costume. so far the best i've come up with is wearing my big shoes and going as 5'3"--but that's been done. so i'm taking suggestions.

i like that other people's parents are keeping in touch with me.

"i don't know which way is up," said a patient who had pressed the call button the other day. i think i know that feeling.