I. potatoes
hungry bonfires
gaping dragon maws and red hot eyes
he slashes the earth, plays cat and mouse chasing
that final drop of sweat
his body is shaped by cicada years and freshly caught
crabs and the lack of chocolate
a taste he still does not enjoy
school comes first but
soccer follows and when he plays he can almost
kick the bridge of the moon
and take the ropes of moonlight
and bask in the celestial glory knowing that he is
a certified future and
when the game ends,
his hungry mind returns to
ember-fueled studies
piping-hot he burns the fields down
he consumes the sun to work
another day
II. trains
he goes to a place
untouched by his brothers and sisters
separated only by a few hundred miles and
the disappearance of fresh morning dew
he learns the taste of mapo tofu
spicy is new but so are the days of
closed doors in the library and open gates in the city
he becomes a new man,
meets mama and is wed in three months
plows through university
research in Hawai’i and purple sweet potatoes are good but
not enough
he takes the train back to his family
gets a seat when he’s lucky
stands
on his own shoulders
when he’s not
III. silver rings
he told me that we come from royalty
kings and generals from two wing-spans ago
once, under siege, he said the general
fattened up the bulls with the last of the city’s food which,
shaped like the enemy,
trained the bulls well and then the general
attached knives and sent them out
he told me that we come from clever thinking
and when the red floods came they buried our family’s heritage
in the safe hands of their original owners
moon pearls, night calligraphy, and
silver rings
and when the red locusts came
moon pearls became money and calligraphy became warmth and
silver rings became life
he taught me that my name is the legacy
of long lost jewelry
IV. the german physics professor
Utahan mountains replace Taishan
he is alone, I am in the pomegranate and
one-child-policy void of
nothing
mama and gege are in infancy
stuck in the whirlpool of
fluent in Chinese, but thinking of Salt Lake City
he cooks for himself now
pork meatballs and cabbage, when he can
dreams of white-picket fences, when he can’t
beer flows from the stores, but even that is deceiving
and bittersweet
oh, root beer.
he learns nothing in class,
is a PhD student but can’t make out the
endless lines of
sauerkraut and bratwurst and
advanced physics in the heart of arches and canyons
in the land of Seinfield
he learns everything, alone
V. he loves our cat just as much as I do
he is stubborn,
refuses to admit what we all know
eats too much of mama’s bread and
pretends to offer it to us but
we let him because
it’s good to see him smile and because
we know he would give his favorite bread to us
if we asked
and when we finally adopt Ivy
he tells me of his favorite childhood kitten
who fought off the Rat King
and I make a secret promise
to become even better than that
and when he thinks nobody is watching
I’ve seen him coddle Ivy like the rest of us
thank you dad
I love you