day 196

(my brand new performance piece!! enjoy!!!)

There is war in my blood.

Between my heart and my genes

Whenever I try to picture

What my culture should really look like.

It has made me vain.

But I tell myself its acceptable

To stare at my reflection

As often as I can

Just in case I suddenly figure out

How my roots became so tangled.

Spending birthday wishes on

Answers to how I should behave as a young woman

Wearing so much ethnic make up

Before I was even allowed to wear lipstick

But this is when I let my lips stick together

Always nodded yes

Or no

To my elders

Not even knowing what they were asking me.

It kills me. Like

When new lovers started asking

What is your ethnic origin?

I swear I was doomed to walk this Earth

In circles

Lost

Because I can only state countries

Which seem as distant as distance can

Be.

While my remains tongue lightyears

Away from such foreign languages.

Some days, I begin to wonder, to myself,

What kissing trees did my parents

And my parents parents

Rendezvous under

And how many wars did they have to fight

Just to stay in love

How many cases of Romeo and Juliet is in my blood?

I've been having nightmares lately.

I’m beginning to see little martial artists

Playing Chinese checkers

On busy market sidewalks

And they’re walking

DOES ANYONE HEAR HOW LOUD THEIR HEARTBEATS ARE

VIETNAM! they’re heading for Vietnam

And my grandmother’s army is over there

Wearing pretty ao dais

And smiles that just kill you

And they’re walking

Left left left right over there, they’re

Chanting- in some kind of broken tongued English

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

And they tell me to repeat them

But I stutter. Even though we’re finally speaking the same language

And remember..... no matter where.. you go, there you .....are

Like I'm learning these dialects for the first time again

DOES ANYONE HEAR HOW quiet my heartbeat is

And a French man in a coffee shop spots my grandmother

And they’re walking.

Under a kissing tree made to sound off bombs.

This is a Romeo and Juliet story.
Right in my veins.

Creating a soul made to love royal ballets

And I meet her, for the very first time.

She sweetly says Jum reap sour

What is your ethnic origin?

And I tell her what I’ve always wanted to tell everyone:

How everything alive in me feels dead

But she tells me what I always hear

You must have a lot of love in your blood.

I wake up.

There is a lot of blood in my love,

Especially when the wars begin.