Another Ritual Poem by jia shuixing

you build an altar, you find a quiet place
or maybe a place so noisy and intense and full of life and light that it can hold you in distraction, you'll need a while

you set out your best satins
or else some old ripped jeans and all the other refuse of a life unlived and of the elations you've always witnessed in others

your practice forgetfulness - nature will lend a hand

you block your sense of smell completely

(years later you might want to look back and take stock and adjust your bearings
it might prove difficult
possibly deadly
but you already knew that)

and you slaughter all your wants