a recipe passed on from my mother’s bhabi and the spirits she hears.

which i’ve never seen and neither the bear that raised her when she

was dropped head first into the forrest: get a group of virginal orphans

right before the new moon in the month of 11th, make them drink milk

of an ox that has been brewed with the final hairs of baby monkeys,

rubbed in turmeric, and make them recite all 99 and the last secret name

of God in a full circle, and make no mistakes, nothing can be too ripe,

and said fast. bring in fish that used to walk the planet before losing

their feet to fins, and release them onto the saltiest waterfall with

a survival kit of coconut pomade, indian gooseberry and a half kilo

of your ancestral gold–or two matronly cows and a bearded goat.

if you don’t get a spouse within day 40, change your name under a

morning glory and pray for god to forgive everything you’ve shattered

or about to do and even your existence and you’re sure

to find someone that will pick you, and finally you,  to marry