first they elected me as chair.
no, first, I just showed up
regularly and shared
my leanings. I was seeking
divination and
wrestling with the
inconveniences of crisis
always followed with
a feeling of light
sprinkling above.
it was winter.
I was bundled but always
wearing tights.
they’ll say I trapped them,
I’ll say I felt trapped. 

the meeting was called
“The Gratitude Meeting”
and I loved how much we talked
about God. I only liked
hearing of God. I only
liked advice that invoked
prayer or some sort of
ceremony in which we
asked to be undone, wind
to take us or
water to cleanse.
the transformation started
with acceptance of
peak smallness, humbling,
then the idea that I could
touch the pink bubble
and move it.

the carpet had yellow
circles and there was a map in
the back of the room.
I sat facing away from it
most of the time. it
was about missionaries.
I began to sit in the
same seat and show up
every Tuesday.  you develop a
familiarity when you
become reliable.

I sat with it sprawling
above me so as they looked
at me, they might look
up to see a giant world
with red pins
stuck in it.

“the black book”


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