Can I eat my mom's ashes?
Probably yes.
But is it tasty?
Sprinkle it with chocolate sauce and eat it on toast.
Mom's ashes are like powdered sugar
Gently embracing my taste buds.

Or we make a pot of potato stew.
Make sure to put a spoonful of mirin in it.
And use mom's ashes instead of salt.
The salt fell from her body.
I remember the first time I went to the beach with my mom
The sand between my legs
Rubbed against the skin.

Or we grill a fresh sea bass
With rosemary and clear Chablis,
Mom's ashes rubbed into the belly of the fish,
the intestines removed.
On the shore,
Fish don't need gills. Mom's hands
Slowly fill the empty stomach.

Or we quickly scramble eggs with onions.
Mom's ashes melted into the egg.
I remember she'd add a little white sugar,
And the onion and egg would burn with a nice brown streak.
Sizzle, sizzle, squeak, squeak, they disappear bit by bit.

Oh, there's just a little bit left, Mom.
I'm going to eat it all.
I'll never be able to kiss my mom again.
Pour the ashes into the water.
Mom floats at the bottom of the glass
Slowly sinking and Settling.

Mom is inside me today
Just like I was inside her.
Tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the day after the day after tomorrow.
Mom will leave my body
In sweat, in tears, in piss and poop
In every natural way.

And then I will slowly disappear
To slowly dive into another world
We're flesh and blood, we're water droplets
We're bubbles, we're music
We’re the ocean the mountain the river the rock the tree the squirrel
The island the cliff the love the Naraka the dust.

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