now, don’t be fooled
flying isn’t easy
June 4, 2024
we were running, always running during Revolution.
my closest neighbor. then, my parents with my brothers / without
me. the youngest won’t remember this trauma.
my grandmother, unwilling to leave without
her possessions: rosewood chairs, vanity mirrors,
porcelain wares she could not bear to be without.
by the time she was ready, there was no leaving.
i burned the rice on the stove top each time. without
a mother / there was no one to teach me. those years,
overcast. one day, i grew weary. i could no longer
decided to fly.
it was unexpected at first.
slicing scallions for jook i
suddenly felt my pinky wiggle my toes
lost their magnetic grip on the tiles my whole body
pulled me towards the window terrace we
kept bolted. the latch jolted even the pans
wobbled to bid me on my departure.
before my grandmother woke, i was out
soaring above blue tarp canopies beyond
the street peddlers & veggie vendors.
now, don’t be fooled
flying isn’t easy, i was fumbling,
kerpumbling, reaching back to the balcony’s ledge
but the winds said, no. go.
i remember the longan trees waved
their arms rejoiced wide, i was
moonwalking above branch tops
below me, they looked
like any old shrub. can you believe it?
even the trees smaller than me!
i wondered if they would fruit next season
far from the cacophony of the radios
i smelled eel sizzling from the sky.
& your grandmother. your mother’s mother
in the next town over, headed home from the fields with
a bucket of taro. she, too, 16 & shining. bobbed hair
beacon star of the town. about to drop her goods with
the rice husk sack slung across her shoulders.
i blew a cloud over her head, for cover. with
my gentle knees i kicked a spirit out from hiding
& sent them to soften her shoulders. with
her muscles relieved, she looked up to thank the gods
& only saw a black bird, my shadow.
—
嬤嬤 — mah mah, Cantonese for paternal grandmother
Note: This poem is inspired by Eve L. Ewing. “Oral History or, 嬤嬤’s Re-Telling” previously appeared in print, in Issue 44 of Bellevue Literary Review (2023).