taco bell chapel 

i grew up in the city of a thousand street corner landmarks & faith 

in my superhero of an uncle who drove deliveries for the kfc + taco bell chapel hung on the edge of a mocked mall parking lot. when god puts two of his creations to -gether, is that considered love? 

when i let the boy i love stray in the opposite direction of me to cash in his chance to order taco bell in a quartered-off underground food court 

is this considered understanding? 

in my childhood evenings my uncle, the messiah, would drop off fries and crunchwrap supremes body twisted in cinnamon; blood drawn in the fire of diablo sauce 

i lost the taste for religion last year in january because the flesh never agreed with me & i never visited the church. but i always knew it would come to my front steps. the boy i love goes to take eucharist in a place 20 minutes from his home and confesses to me: god doesn’t sit well in his stomach either.

Here is a list of things Helen Ho KNOWS she can digest: bean Crunchwrap Supremes. Paper. Licorice that tastes like wax. This is the first “serious” thing of Helen’s that has been published. Her other stuff can be found on twitter @normalhelen.

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