Suburban Takeout
Racialized moans
(“Get it good, chink bitch:
like a little monkey”),
sometimes tipping
beyond under breath,
at the pinnacle strokes
of a happy ending
blur-oiled by a hand
too tiny for such
grip strength—a neon
massage parlor, “Hunan
So-Yung,” near us all.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)