this is silly
i murmur to myself

my chin is resting on my knees
and my arm encircles my mom's right calf
hugging myself and her right calf

she clicks through the powerpoints

is this what being generation X means?
i think to myself
having powerpoints of how much parents care for their children

mom's hand grabs mine in the third slide
where the author writes about pushing her son into the metal doors of kindergarten

she sees his stub of a silhouette tottering

chubby hands wiping off the snot and tears

mom's hand quavers a bit during the fifth

they are at the airport

her son walks into the terminal and doesn't look back

the powerpoint is complete with music

singing how happiness is so much like sorrow

this is silly

i think as i cry

he likes where she has gone in recent days
this digging into the past
the smiles of farmers with capped teeth
the greatest man alive
the money burning
and the selfishness of the gods
the doctors taking blood
but shes right
she understands the mother
the way she invests her soul in the small things
he thinks she is seeing that in her as well

it is all the small things that count

without the small things it all becomes a blur
without the details we try to hold on to
things just go as numb as the sky in Taipei
in January

time knows us better than we know ourselves
she laughs at us when we see her
walking away from the garden
the glimpse of the a young naked girl
before she disappears into
large fronds of tropical splendor
she
time
she knows us
as they say today
"there is no there"
she was there before the garden

he loves that she gets the small things
the devil is in the details is what
they'd say in an empty class room
after the lecture
and the sound of seasonal fall
in the maples
made a dry sound of leaves
outside the third floor

MEXICANS: Part one

i went into ez lube around nine thirty
and told the guy not to touch the air filters
just change the oil, the oil filter, and well call it even steven
i sat in the lobby and read about maggie the street girl
new york circa 1890

the guy next to me had a pony tail and slippers,
he went through his mail with an envelope knife
until the mexican ez lube guy
came up to him and told him
he had a nail in his tire
the pony tail said to leave it there
the ez cholo told him all about his car
he talked about it with such sincerity
this and that needed this and that
this is needed this now
or else the car wont work ectect
this sense of knowing

the pony tail wasnt fooled
he told them to check his abs light
and the cholo gave him a nod, rose, and went back into the pony tails
car to look at his abs light

when the cholo called my name and showed me that
he had taken out the air filters
he had this smile on his face
as I walked towards him
he was going to try and sell me air filters
its their job, they have to do it,
the have to try and sell you shit you dont need
hoping you dont know anything about cars
and that they can scare you, or guilt you,
into buying something you dont need
this america
this is ez lube
this is me about to grab the oil gun and
pump my own fucking oil into my car
cuss im not that american
im not played

she feels like reality is drifting away from her

or maybe she's drifting away from reality

i remember being angry at her
for asking me if I had gas money
outside the hospital
I got angry
because I was sorry
sorry all of this was happening
and why the fuck are you asking me about gas money?

when this has nowhere to go
it puddles in our little brains
and floods the vessels
it needs to go
cuss we want to live
we want to love
and we feel guilty when
we know we must part
we know that sometimes
we are driving that separation
and so they break our hearts when
for being so fake
so nice
happiness and talk of gas money
cuss we don't know what to say
we don't know what to think

we want to tell them
sorry

instead we scream for ponies

if its anything like macbeths wife and her hands
thats no good

i think a part of me is completly insane
but I know EXACTLY where that part is!

i feel like i'm that little wife in bluebeard

trying to rub off the red from my nails in the middle of the night

you sister wants to see a shrink

and she cried about her birthday

mom said it softly

eyes red

a tear clinging to the corner of her eye

why does she want such a big fuss out of her birthday

they aren't such a big deal

is the first thought that flashes

i have never in my god forbid life wanted to see a shrink

second thought

maybe that makes me even more troubled

third

she looks up at her mom

we are what you get when you want to raise children a taiwanese with american stripes

we end up wanting new year's red envelopes and christmas trees and tuition and birthday gifts

your father and i...

we never wanted anything out of you other than your happiness

you have expectations and you know it

you and your sister are so hard to parent, do you know that

yeah

being your kid is no piece of cake too

sis tried to pump him for information
he liked that audacity of it
she thinks she can squeeze him for information
he wonders if telling her that her older sister is
going to marry a mexican mechanic named angel
worked or not
he wonders if she is clever enough to see through it
it was her first
bite sized little test
or maybe
he wonders
if she knows more than she thinks
he understands why big sis wants to protect her now
and he is slowly coming around to the idea of
what this also means to him

Song: Miss Chin? Why, in Peking Opera, are women's roles played by men?"

Chin: I don't know. Maybe, a reactionary remnant of male-"

Song: No. Because only a man knows how a woman is supposed to act"

M. Butterfly

she was one of those temple ladies

hair knotted, gold rim glasses, white from head to toe

you could tell from just looking at her hands though

she had the hands of someone familiar with hell's currency

deft fingers folded the golden papers into triangles

her wrists making quick accurate flings into the dragon painted oven

she was talking in rapid taiwanese

how environmental nuts wanted them to stop burning paper money

what will the gods think?! she exclaimed

he was listening

smiling and listening

those gods

they're used to the good life

stop burning and you'll have trouble that's what i'll tell you

spoiled that's what they are

but what can you do about it?

all this was said with the density of monks reciting passages of the bible

her hands making efficient strokes and flicks

and he chuckling in between

----------------

this was what mao zedong drank, this tea

he says, filling my cup

i pick up the hot teacup

its pungent and strong

leaves its trace in your mouth first time down

doesn't trickle back like other teas

i'm trying to decide whether i like this tea or not

i'm also trying to decide whether i like him

he fits in well at first glance

signature blue and white slippers that people in the country side wear

balding hair

weathered face

its until gramp's friend mentions that he's from the states

entire family's there

he lives in texas

he starts throwing me the questions

what i've studied

what i plan to study

you should have stayed with international business he tells me

could've become a CEO

i don't know what kids these days are thinking

you all live in fantasy

he doesn't even look at me when he says this

expertise should be found before interest

when you have enough expertise in something

then

thenthenthen

you can pursue your every interest

i don't like him from that point on

he prides himself in being an american citizen

too bad that's the only thing american about him

my kids all play sports

they've went to harvard berkley you name it

they can go anywhere they want and get a scholarship

my daughter

universities pay her to study there

for her tennis

i'm thinking

they don't pay her to study there

they pay her to play

ten fucking hours of tennis everyday

who has time for anything after that

i never pay for my kid's university tuition

he says with glee

as if not paying makes him all the more standard american father

and your going to study english

he looks at me from the corners of his eyes

and you want to write with the americans

compete with the americans

i am one of those silly little girls who believe that they can do english cause they hell can't do math

he looks and laughs

i look at him and laugh

i don't despise idiots

its not their fault they don't know better

----------------

why are you sending her abroad they joke and laugh

just find a good husband for her after university

i had a cousin that went to juilliard

wouldn't come back

her mom threatened her to cut connections

made her come back

made her marry

i had a granddaughter that went to juilliard

caught america like a bad virus

forgot about taiwan

wouldn't come back

her mom begged her to come home

she'd told her mom she'd rather send her money then go back

her mom cried some more

begged some more

had her come back

marry a doctor

she became so much more peaceful after marrying

she lived happily ever after

don't stay there gramps says

face long and serious

frowning a little

don't marry a foreigner

leave me

but remember to come back

he bought three bottles of them in penghu
they looked liked used galien bottles
filled with paint thinner and a centipede
he drank it with a taiwanese guy
who just finished singing
house of the rising sun

why are reptiles supposed to make
my penis hard in this country?

one of the bottles exploded at the airport
he imagined customs officials in Los Angeles
pulling out the long centipede
its giant claws that magnified into grotesque nightmare images
but two made it through

he gave one bottle to a wine importer, the other, he gave to his brother
the wine importer keeps it on his desk
i ask him to open it when i visit him
"not a chance," he says

chipped nail polish didn't remind her of anything before

she just liked how it reminded her of the paint on old buildings

then she heard from somewhere about this girl

who would look at the shapes and cracks

like clouds

and imagine them Americas and Africas

she liked that

how the girl could tell something from nails

so she started daydreaming nails

the index finger on her left hand has a man standing on a cliff

it looked like he was going to jump off

but after friday it just looks like he's waiting

or looking at a faraway somewhere

its hard to be sure

there are wild horses on her right hand thumb

horses that are running

they don't have anything to runaway from

she thinks the left hand little finger is a jaguar

or a cougar in hunting

but who is supposed to notice big cats in hunting unless your a scientist with all those wires and night cameras?

its an iguana lounging in the sun

she never liked reptiles

and shouts

what was it?

WHY DOES MY LIFE FLUSH DOWN THE TOILET

or something like that

the thrash and bash of neighbors stomping
he likes the sound
the bending of wood boards
of foot steps
there are days where he has no interaction outside
of lecture halls or classrooms
so he likes the sound of footsteps
and strange movement
only the large gestures pass through
the slamming of a door
the flushing of a toilet
the dropped cork screw

he knew there was something in the conversation
she had mentioned bowie
that she was listening to it
he tried to sing it in the morning
everything went well until the part bowie goes high
she told him to stop
that she could blame it on the connection

he knew there was something in the conversation
rereading M Butterfly its there on the first page
the quote from Bowie
the first line of the song
right before the first scene
the author put bowie before his play

hes going to see the play this friday

with the girl

77 days, she announced

oh and 107 too, she added

what? i looked at her

till this semester ends and till i go to florida.

going to florida is her christmas

do you think i'm weird? she looked at me with her brows scrunched

no, i said, sorta wiping the question off

i don't believe in the "of course your not honey, your special" gushing thing

good, it was the checking something off of your list kind of good, matter of factly good

then she ran up the stairs in threes

she stopped on top and tilted her head down

AM I WEIRD FOR ASKING?

with the girl

she had the spoon full of soggy cereal outstretched

"this is getting icky, i want to fish it out and drink the milk"

i murmured a kind of agreement and went on trying to pick off the tape from her birthday present

a tin can with a carton bunny entitled "popo bunny"

"popo bunny doesn't like me, i give up" i handed her the tin can

she looked at it for a bit and turned to me

"you know if you pronounce it wrong it becomes poopoo bunny, no wonder she's shit colored"

then she easily ripped off the tape and went on with her sugared milk

he says the fish isnt right

she bought it
she paid a lot of money for the fish
sashimi grade tuna my ass
she agrees it doesnt smell right

she says he doesnt use enough dressing in the salad
he tells her to add more

opens the refrigerator and points
to the bottles of different dressing

she looks at the bowl
his home made dressing

the lemon rind squeezed dry
and the fresh herbs and oil

then she looks at the empty bottle
he makes his own salad dressing
it involves real things
she knows it doesnt come from a bottle

she knows this
and wonders why he wont make her more

he is busy getting ready for the trip
three days in the wilderness
nothing that cannot be fit
into a back pack
three days no water

he is packing dehydrated fruit
wax covered cheese
salami

he almost forgot
the cup
one cup
three days
he needs the perfect cup

ken is testing out how to freeze beers
without having them explode in the refridgerator
this is his concern
how to have cold beer
six hours in to a gruesome hike

women are not coming on this one

she is asking for more dressing on the salad
tonights last supper
a carefull dance of need and neglect

he better fuck her good before the trip
she asks me
"why arent you going?"
"I am"
have you packed she asks
"Darling...Ive done biblical deserts...I dont pack."

where sarah looked back
and turned into a pillar of salt
I slept there for three days
on the desert floor in a sleeping bag

I shook white scorpions from my shoes
Im the one who will fast
Im the one who will take nothing

the fish looked good
I wanted to finger it into my mouth
the slabs of sashimi

the men began preliminary testing
when all things were packed...
jon and i arm wrestled with our right
i lost...

ken and I with the left
I won

see you in three days love...

im no right hand man...
but these bitches dont know no desert

give me your heart wrenching bloody smack me in the honesty over i don't knows anyday

there is something about joan didion's voice

it scares her

she opens the book and starts reading

starts shivering

fear and darkness

play it as it lays

i fumble with my waxed apple

and it smacks the floor

splatting

my sister looks up from her history textbook

covered with doodles of emperors with wispy beards

"how in the world do you survive in taipei?!"

she's sitting, back upright, with her sunglasses perched on her slightly upturned nose

idly stirring her coffee

hey babe, he pulls out a chair and sits relaxed

with you looking this good

i should bang the entire board of directors now i'm at it

she pulls down her sunglasses a bit and gives him a scornful look

he's crazy

she should have known better

he orders an espresso and waves the waiter away

i believe your just dying to ask why and how i did it

he took out a cigar and took a puff

well babe, we just snapped the three people in this world that knows the exact recipe of the red bottle

you aren't gonna add coke in whiskey anymore darling

and i knew you were never a big fan of coke with anything anyway

march 27

she's still sleepy, curled up in sheets

hello? shouts the other end of the receiver, then static

she mumbles something

turn on the radio darling, yells the receiver again

just turn on the radio

her hand searches for the dial on the radio

"three high executives from the coke a cola company assassinated tonight"

she's awake now

sits up, the sheets falling off her breasts

he's gotta be kidding her

darling, he says, opening the bright coke bottle,

i believe its time to declare the death of coke-a-cola

she looks up from her bob hair

an eye cocked, eyes looking sideways at him

he feels encouraged,

at least she's half interested

he takes a long guzzle from the can and continues

you see my dear, pausing a bit for effect,

march 27th

its all coming march 27th

it is during times like this when she really wonders why she fell in love with him

he's walking around the room, white tank tucked into his pants

strutting, with a bit of coke staining his mustache

she lowers her eyes back at her novel

distracted again

easter


a holiday in which we commemorate the death and resurrection of jesus
by telling children a
giant bunny
came in the night
and left chocolate eggs for them

.....

and we wonder why were fucked up as a race

are you guys eating?

she asks over the phone.

i knew she would ask this question but i'm still annoyed

no, we're just having a drink

okay then count me in, she says in an receptionist voice, overly polite and sweet

----------

i do it for jesus

we fast to get answers

i'm praying and fasting now

i want to know whether my boyfriend really loves me or not

i cock an eyebrow and stare at her

i didn't even know when she was sucked into christianity

christ

it was easy walking down the catwalk

picking a camera to devastate

putting on different persona after persona

forgetting everything

she loves heels

people would ask

why don't they hurt?

she loves the pain with every step

it reminds her she's walking

he was there for the alcohol

he kept on repeating

alcohol does interesting things to people

makes them say things they didn't know they knew

night clubs never allow people to have an audible conversation

you start hearing what you want to hear

or maybe people don't want to hear

they only want to watch bodies move

they walked into the bright lights outside and a sudden silence hit them

loud and definite

-----------

he's the kind of person that doesn't know when to shut up and watch

she has her eyes locked on the people leaving

drunk and staggering

she wants to hear what they are shouting

she wants to know what alcohol has reduced them to

she remembers repeating

i want to fuck

i want to FUCK

the last time she got drunk

but he keeps on talking about his stories

which author he's read

how many words he's written

trivial

tell me the story babe

not about them

when you find what you've always wanted was so easy to reach

you start wondering why you didn't grasp for them earlier

taipei

she wanted that typewriter

the letters were calling out to her

they sang when she pressed them

a writer's piano

all of the sudden

she didn't care about going clubbing

drinking and flirting with people and all that shallow shit

she wanted the typewriter beside the road

the guy selling had sleeve tattoos

and he knew the want in her eyes

he started showing her how the typewriter could have a hood and how it looked like a brief case when carried around

the whole shebang

then he his sleeve tattooed hand slipped and dropped the typewriter onto the pavement

it gave out a hurt cry

a yelp and screech

something clutched her heart and she squatted near the typewriter

poor baby she murmured touching the keys

sleeve tattoos lowered the price

she wanted the typewriter

she wanted the cream base with the chocolate black keys that stuck sometimes that could only type one letter at a time

she wanted the way thin iron bars would swing and hit the paper

inking it with a short and fat, grub letter

she hated that it was tattoo sleeves selling it

he didn't understand

he probably knew antique cars and whatever

he couldn't do typewriter

latter at the club

her friends would ask her why she looked agitated and moody

every beat that thumped out of the dance floor reminded her of the certainty the bars swung at the paper

the certain rhythmic beat that voiced out truths

but how could you tell anyone how you wanted to be writing

all the second long glances

heavy lids

smiles

outstretched arms reaching for men

nudging shoulders questioning women

on a typewriter

taichung

the balcony was caged in by wooden bars

thick sturdy bars that had age spots on them

set just so that she felt she could squeeze her head through

but found she couldn't when she tried

they had just finished watching Scent of a Woman and they tango scene was still dancing in her head

her hands were gripping the bars and she turned back and asked him

why did you ever go into medical school?

cause it seemed important

he recited that line off with an easy drawl

he was used to getting this question

he was leaning on the wall with his head bent and hands in his pockets

he raised his head and suddenly said

people don't understand what i see

they don't understand what i understand

what are you looking for then?

she was testing him

seeing if he had any shit in him

i want a new definition of humanity

taipei clubbing

why aren't you down at the dance floor? she tilted her head and asked him.

it doesn't feel right... it isn't right to be out clubbing like this... meeting new girls, touching new girls so easily...

he laughed after stammering this, as if it sounded absurd to even him

she grabbed him by his hand

here, i'll take you

she pulled him down to the dance floor and started eagle eyeing all the shorties

the girls with one and a half inch heels and smokey eyes

she started pointing to all the one's with the thin arms, long hair

and his face would cringe at everyone

she signed

you have a girlfriend don't you?

he nodded viciously

and you love her

he looked at her in the eye

sign

let's go back

she knew when to give up