All my days I long for your truth, your light, and your ancient oils
Oh let the garlic I crave be given to me, if I trust in your holy spirit
Yea, even in the days of Trump, deep in the bowels of Queens, a house of oils remains
Bowls of chili red oil, garlic, noodles, your countenance shines
The next day I take Imodium AD
Elmhurst, Queens