For Kathleen Gibbons
I’m having Stilton blue cheese marinated in port wine, with a shot of 70 percent slivovitch, 2 times distilled. Tribal knowledge. While I think that I should get paid heavy money for my invention, I go back to thinking about church. I think of churches I’ve been to, and on Sundays I paint them with the twelve tribes of Israel in mind. The first two in the series are awaiting the rest of the company. Asher, who plotted to sell his brother Joseph into slavery gets this blessing from his father, Jacob: “From Asher will come the richest food; he will provide the king's delights.” I take another bite of cheese, and with Benjamin in sight, I imagine my spirit poured from the silver cup hidden in his sack. I’m having a hard time seeing him as a ferocious animal. But not his father, obviously, since he issued this vision for him: “a vicious wolf, devouring the prey in the morning, and dividing the spoil at night.” I see Benjamin as the son of my yoga master, Kathleen, whose golden hair and a body to die for, inspires to things beyond sins. The silver cup turns into gold. I leave the company of thieves and traitors, and start seeing the best in everything. Joseph blesses me: “act as if what you want is already true.” I go ask my gut feeling what that is.