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Goreng Pisang


They say it takes 7 seconds to make a first impression

Here it is

**** you

**** you for making me do this even when the most profound ideas are

Swirling around beautiful, untouched unsullied

For making me do this, deliver a child before it is viable

Reach into the womb and pull it out, skin translucent heart

Beating beating beating beating so very fast

Painfully loud like the drums you hear during Chinese New Year

Yet deafeningly silent

It has not yet learnt to cry, you know?

**** you professional authors for putting words so beautiful into devastating effect

An unrealistic example for us all to follow

I am nothareshsharma I am notalfiansaat

The beauty of this language does not run through my veins it was beaten

The cane the tattoo needle

The Preston Grammar Book a pigskin tapestry

Profundity and beauty rejected in favour of understanding

“Grammar”

you

My first language was Cantonese did you know that?

My Birth Cert says Khek (Hakka for you)

The only way I can contact my grandparents

Is through pidgin’ Chinese

And burning the josspaper

But hey, my B3 HCL cert

Satisfies Chinese foreign investment interests

My culture is dying, sustained only by

The IV drip drip drip of Confucian values (Mus respek your elders!)

Formula fed through the nose

Diet of Chilli Crab Hainanese Chicken Rice Laksa Black Pepper Crab Sambal Belacan Roti Prata Singlish on Bus Stops Social Studies Lessons Carrot Cake Kiasuism Paggro la Bak Kut Teh Kit Chan Wanton Mee JJ Lin Jack Neo Ah Boys To Men Ah Boys To Men 2 Ah Boys To Men 3

This is not my language

This is the language of Farquhar

This is the language of the hongmoguai

Who invaded China to sell opium

Who came here to sell opium to exploit the indigenous to further the reach of the Crown

While we stood, watched, moved goods for them

(And invented Bak Kut Teh in the process)

This is my language

I think in it speak in it write in it

They may have cut Mother’s tongue out and replaced it with theirs

But I let this foreign appendage take root in my mouth, my soul.

I am the hongmoguai with yellow skin

Drowned in the sickly oil of

Capitalism Competitiveness Globalisation

made soft by Trump Trump Trump Brexit LIBERALS

Battered sweet glistening under the heatlamps of my own identity crisis

Goreng Pisang satu, da bau

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