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The story of my life in verse. |
I was a three year old druggie, sick and practicing early. I popped a bottle of cold pills because my parents bribed me And immigrated to America fifty-two weeks later. A step into the land of the free crippled half of me; My left foot was still rooted in Tianjin, the city of my ancestors. Lullabies of fallen gods and Li Bai Sang me to sleep in a world of daytime television and jeans. I woke and remembered a face Lined with flashes of my own. Patches of dreams, stapled together, left me Breathless with anger. I walked Silently out the door of my sheltered home, Without a backward glance. All the lights of Miami night cannot erase The memory of a mother's smile of guilt and apology. |