Transcendental Hokum

Detail, “Blue Gate,” oil on canvas, 48 x 48 in. (JMN, 2014).

it’s raining in Athens too, a brood of stars jump

on the hood as I race onto Route 441 & sob

over a cold voice on the radio explaining God.

(Abhijit Sarmah, “In Her Last Phone Call”)

I harbor the goofy notion that we’re infused with a sap common to all that’s animate. You and I have a greater dollop of it than a snake, or a bee (apparently). It remains the case, notwithstanding, that in their skins, but for the do-si-do of starry dust, go we.

I’ve no idea how or why I got more sap than the snake, but the crux is that what makes him and me tick came from the same place. We’re sap-sisters, if you will.

In practical terms, the hokum makes me try not to step on anything that looks alive.

(I’m not a religious person, and if I were alleged to have said any of this I would tempestuously disavow it.)

About JMN

I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day. I like to read and memorize poetry.

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