An Asian American in Ecuador

Goodbye Chinese

Sweet anger
Draw me a curtain
Give me a mask
Push me off the stage

The sour touch of your words
Feel like dry leaves on my soul
And bad milk in my bowl

Goodbye Chinese

Salty warmth
Hold me back
Shut my sight
Wrap me in my ancestral blanket

The savory touch of truth
Feels like pride, forgiveness and strength
And endless grains of rice

I am Asian American

I am Asian American
Asian Americans look like clothes on a clothesline swinging in the wind
On a perfect sunny and warm day

A crunchy bell pepper in my pasta
A key hole in the clouds
The chutes and ladders in a Milton Bradley board game
A fern growing to the floor
Not a trumpet, not a bark, nor traffic speeding by
But the sound of a shouting metaphor
And coins hitting the floor

I am American Asian
And Asian Americans look like me.

Me in Cuenca

Hot and high
Low and cold

He bikes with his hands
And whistle blows

Newspapers on her head
Babe in arm
A basket on her back
A child in tow
Another child in the row

Ringing church bells
Soldiers’ cadence

Drumming in the streets

Up and down
I walk around

Dodging rain bullets
Cracks
Holes
Cobblestones
And poo

She walks with her tacos
And whistle blows

Tray table on her head
bebe on her back
Table legs in arm
A crying niño in tow
Another and another
Cry in a row

Helado, helado
Sellers’ cadence

Honking in the streets

arriba y abajo
I walk around

Dodging Word of God
Bullets en Chino y Espanol
Written spoken text
the missionaries clario

I blend
I stand out
I am your salt and pepper shaker