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Sacrifice: I Was Named by the Orphanage

My singing
voice

isn’t very
good, my substitute

father said
before my

Torah portion—
he was getting

stoned in
the bathroom,

an air vent
on. Cast out

and drifting
farther from

my omma,
I made

my way across
an ocean.

I’ve always
loved Moses’s

story, Jochebed’s
baby in

an ark
of  bulrushes—

this is the love
of a mother,

which I heard
in Sunday

school. I was
raised by

a  Jewish family
but only learned

words like meshuggenah
and babushka.

I’m on my own,
and years have passed

since then. After a song
is sung for exorcism,

a basket
is on the floor

for offerings:
rice, spoons,

a candle, and thread—
a Buddhist dance

is not for spectators
but an offering

of the dancers’
bodies to

the Buddha.
I tell myself my omma

had a say
in my name,

my small boat
rocked

against the shores
of her hot desire.

My name is old—
my name

means  jewel girl.
Notes:

This poem includes language from Man-young Hahn's article, “The Four Musical Types of Buddhist Chant in Korea,” appearing in the Yearbook for Traditional Music 15 (1983).
Source: Poetry (April 2024)