In direct Buddha lineage Name chanted reverently What of his mother? Was she the Earth-dirt body Flesh of his own body He had to overcome? John-sweat on his infant skin The suffering that took twelve Wheels turning to overturn? How long must he have been Sitting before he realized He could not un-cling to pain For her? But only For himself let go of her Whore’s weeping held Storming in his mind?
I sit efforting my eyes to stay Down and unfocused the smell Of john-sweat rises to my nose The grimacing gatekeeper of I might give birth to a roshi Back screaming in this broken chair Sitting straighter than shame Knees spread wide Hands an open oval Over my womb
The first cry Sweaty mother and destiny Kissed child is a relief The cord is cut the un-clinging Begun —a tiny red fist Opening unnaturally Separation sustained And dissolved Son of prostitute becomes Prostitute becomes her son Becomes a single drop of blood Mixed on the scroll chanted reverently Direct lineage of the Buddha.
I am an essayist and poet. My work has been rejected by some of the finest journals in America. Fortunately, it also gets accepted from time to time and has appeared in equally fine journals such as Word Riot, Inlandia, Brew City Magazine, and SageWoman, among others.. In 2002, I won the Academy of American Poets Prize for Vanderbilt University.
For no good reason, I possess an unnecessarily dark humor which is why being third generation California Inland Empirian delights me so. My gods are weird. I once won $350 for writing a smartassed essay on “why the wise use of water is important in my daily life”. I am undoubtedly the Greek god Hermes’ special snowflake. I’m pretty sure I got into college via a series of fortuitous clerical errors.
When I had to grow up and get a real job, I decided against it and stayed a writer. I have worked many odd—and I mean odd—jobs to support my habit: PR writer for country music hopefuls, resume massager, WalMart fitting room attendant and switchboard operator, and telephone psychic, just to name a few.
I am also albino. That's why my psychic gifts are so strong. I traded in my pigment for magical foresight, because that's how it works. It gets all technical. Trust me. That's totally how it works.
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M. N. Ashley 