1-2-1-Moo

Let's Live Like Heroes

collage by me

I prayed for wind but forgot to specify the direction. Later, was blown into rooms furnished with desires I once swore were everything — only to discover I no longer identify with the version of myself who made those requests.

So now I’m left wondering, with new choices in hand:

When is a decision to align with someone or something strategic, practical, good — and when is it instead a slow reshaping of yourself to fit where you don’t?

After these poems, a playlist.

And after that, announcements plus a mini intro on altar work.

—

Zeus’ Bitch

My integrity is a white cow bearing West.
Bow—Bella,
Ciao, Bella,
Cow Bell-a.

At a restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn,
 named after a butterfly that travels great distances
 on ancestral memory, sun geometry,
 and a tiny built-in ecocompass—

I become suddenly and irretrievably aware
 that I have, this whole time,
 been slowly transforming into a cow.

Well—my bad.

It was the bell around my neck, then.
 A gift.

I slip it off
 and the spell is broken.








I Prayed For Wind

Unfortunately,
 I did request assistance from—
 I don’t want to say who,
 but—
sky daddy.


Guess who.


He said I was to be
 dainty and submissive.

But I’m
 lightning-fire / workhorse / creamy-angelic,
 stained—
 but also gold-washed,
 Stumbling
 (always toward destiny).

He spoke me into an arrow—
 tucked me between his two front teeth;
 and with a low whistle and one hard blow
 drove me into the eye of the storm.

I held my breath.
 (It’s bad luck to breathe in tunnels.)

And rode
 downy thunderclouds
 until they burst,
 arriving—
 drenched.

In the quiet eye,
 I breathe in again
 and find I have been touched
 by early madness.

But is it madness?
 Or only eccentricity
 without the bank green of wealth
 to set off the green in my eyes.

Speaking of eyes:
 the eye of the storm

 also happened to be shaped like a car
 going 160
 down JFK.

But listen—
 it is my fault.

Because I wrote:
 “Please send prayers for wind”
 in my Church Zoom.
And then
logged out.

What feels like a miracle: March 1 I will be joining a cohort of artists in residence at Time To Be Happy, in Soho! Soho, the fanciest manciest Manhattan locale. I feel like I should be twirling a mustache and drinking a martini just to tell you this.

Top floor: gallery — stunning. Bottom floor: artists — working. That’s me! Come say hi. I will prob post days I’m on on my insta via stories (@hagofnyc).

The offerings: Reminder that paid subscribers get a yearly tarot reading—so plssss reply back to this email and we’ll set up a Zoom. Evenings, and Sundays are wide open.

I also finally have copies of my chapbook Hot House Flower, released through Bottlecap Press—a CA-based publisher (featured in Dazed, Forbes, The New York Times, NYLON because they’re also fancy) who hand bind all their books. They hand bound those babies and mailed them to me and now they’re ready to leave the plastic cover under my couch, and be in your hands. Or a friend’s hands. Or someone’s hands preferably with eyes on them and a heart that goes, oh, I’m not the only one. They’re $10. A steal! Venmo me or you can order from my website. If you already ordered one it is one it’s way to you in the mail, and tysm.

Another small thing: I heard from many of you that you want to build an altar but you don’t know how! And the idea of it stresses you TF out. Fair.

Begin with a 2.99 candle and any rock or leaf you find pleasing that you pass on your way to anywhere. Pick it up. Put it in your pocket.

LATER, place it along with your candle on any elevated surface. A step stool. A shelf. The edge of your nightstand. Light your candle and say a prayer of gratitude.

No money for fresh flowers? No problem! I love to provide offerings entirely with the mind. Ganesh loves red roses but we don’t have red roses money this month? You can find me kneeling with the image of a multi dozen red rose bouquet spinning through the air in the rain in my mind’s eye, like a sexy perfume commercial shot by someone named Francisco. Visualization — yes. Liminal entities don’t mind things that aren’t technically real as long as your intentions are aimed. Plus! It’s good practice. Visualization is an essential skill for any effective spiritual operator to master.

-

Amidst all this change I’m wondering: What can I lean into just because it feels good? And only because of that.

Still, with love,

H