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Minority

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(1)
Intermediate Advance

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Viet Nam

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Minority

Intermediate Advance

Lovelyne
1

clattering tongue carried translated scratch tumble foreigner bone ghost recognise relatives sugar alien admirable aftertaste infiltrate immigrate community sprouting coconut

I was born a .
I on from there
to become a foreigner everywhere
I went , even in the place
planted with my ,
six - foot tubers roots ,
their fingers and faces pushing up
new shoots of maize and cane .

All kinds of places and groups
of people who have an
history would , almost certainly ,
distance themselves from me .

I don ? t fit ,
like a clumsily - poem ;

like food cooked in milk of
where you expected ghee or cream ,
the unexpected
of cardamom or neem .

There ? s always that point where
the language flips
into an unfamiliar taste ;
where words over
a cunning tripwire on the ;
where the frame slips ,
the reception of an image
not quite tuned , - outlined ,
that signals , in their midst ,
an .

And so I scratch ,
through the night , at this
growing scab on black on white .
Everyone has the right
to a piece of paper .
A page doesn ? t fight back .
And , who knows , these lines
may scratch their way
into your head ?
through all the chatter of ,
family , spoons ,
children being fed ?
into your bed ,
squat in your home ,
and in a corner , eat your bread ,

until , one day , you meet
the stranger sidling down your street ,
realise you know the face
simplified to ,
look into its outcast eyes
and it as your own .