He mutters in his sleep;
in the dark we’d listen,
fists to our mouths to stifle our laughter
until we realized it was about war.
He looks out and sees how combustible everything is.
How we could all just become
flashes of flame, then nothing.
He doesn’t ever want to be an American:
they say they will be there for you but won’t.
Bruises and blood on his oldest.
Of course, nothing in life can
ever be good.
He gets a two-by-four.
Small curls in the wood’s flesh
where the saw cut it.
Walks to the gas station,
sobbing.
He wants to know
who hurt his son.
He wants to kill someone,
the language he is always reminded
he understands.
Knockoff
—With thanks to Juliana Hu Pegues for the observation that Asians
are always interrogated, and inauthentic, in America.
Fake Gucci fake Prada fake Burberry in a fake store
in a fake part of town shielded by a fake dragon façade
Fake weave made with real black-licorice hair
Fake housing projects
Fake mansion in Bel Air
Fake fingernails and real toxins in real lungs
Fake eyelids make flutters in fake mirror
paid for by real dollars
Fake high-wire kung fu fake hero fake man
Fake tech boom
Fake Silicon Valley
Fake red blush flush with success
Fake inflation fake gentrification
Fake love making
Fuck your little dick
wrong slant pussy
fake sex fucking
Fake soldier
see if you can fake this hazing
Fake struggle
real bullets
real deportation
Fake strength—oh you complaining with your fake weakness
Shut the fuck up fake activist
fake minority
fake white person
fake person of color
fake feminist
fake queer
fake working class
fake poor
fake oppression
Fake your thank-yous
you should be glad you’re even here with your
fake gratitude
fake longitude
fake latitude
Fake-ass poet unless
you’re a real white poet with a fake
Chinese name that belongs
to a real person in which case
let us taste your funk
but otherwise fuck your fake fusion
fake chink—no wait you’re a gook
You fake slope
no
You fake dothead
no
You fake raghead
no
You fake flag on the front door threadbare
You fake and taking up space but can’t see how much
through your slanted eyes
You fake Nike swoosh flailing in a factory
You fake iPhone 6, 7, 8 suicide
You fake NBA player overrated chink in a jockstrap
Fake boat but real leak
Fake pirate but real rape
Fake passport but real pat down
Fake concentration camp but real internment
Fake railroad but real bang
Fake English speaker on the other end of a tech help line
Fake scientist selling secrets to Japan
no wait China
no wait Korea
Fake ID
Fake English
Fake country
Fake fault line
Fake demarcation
Fake citizen
Fake American
Fake eyes
Fake face
Fake arms
Fake legs
Fake voice
Fake your
every
little
part
The Measure
—With thanks to Jon Schill
On June 23, 1982, Vincent Chin died from wounds sustained in an attack from two working-class white men who blamed him and the Japanese auto industry for the loss of their jobs, even though Chin was Chinese American and did not work in the auto industry. One man held him in a bear hug so the other could strike him four times in the head with a baseball bat. As his brain leaked onto the sidewalk, Chin’s last words were reportedly, “It isn’t fair.” His wedding guests attended his funeral instead. The men who killed him, to this day, have not spent a day in jail nor paid any of the $3,700 fine. The judge presiding over the case said, “These aren’t the kind of men you send to jail.”