Unholy Thursday

Once again, that holy day--
Maundy, mandatum, mandated--
arrives to wash the feet of those
the chosen deem in need of their hands.
Yet no priest of high order
washes feet like their teacher.

Only my immigrant eommas do.
They know not Jesus well but George--
whose face is folded, smudged, sweated, wrinkled.
Soaking, scrubbing, massaging, clipping, polishing, painting--
the feet and nail tips for tips,
tending their flock--
sheltering, feeding, clothing, schooling,
mandating, mandating, mandating.

They mandate themselves to the task,
silently, shamelessly,
not just on Holy Thursday but every Thursday,
and every unholy day,
with broken tongues.
​
That’s what a god would do
if it were human.

​
* Eomma is the Korean word for mom.