everyone please watch Bowling for Columbine. you can not read my blog anymore until you watch it. planet rock the block was fun as usual. and the night of cultural resistance, in all its beauty, reminded me of how badly i've lost touch with my asian culture...

"where are the storytellers?"

ancestors

who are you?
and what did we talk about?

you never could tell me about
your lives your laughs your first loves and your loss
you never could tell me about
your days by the docks
your midnight runs to thailand
your childless imprisonment
you never could recite to me the poems you wrote on your deathbed
you never could sing to me - who can't sleep - the lullabyes you composed for your children

and i
i could never ask you "what happened?"
i could never beg to you to tell me more tell me more
i could never rejoice in a casual conversation between just you and i

ghosts of saigon
ghosts of hanoi
ghosts of fujian
ghosts of hong kong
all you cooks, fishermen, poets, smugglers, and soldiers
you who
share my name share my face
are hushed and buried
in heavy holes

the chaisms within
the tremble of my heart