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)