NYU Black Renaissance Noire Spring/Summer 2014 | Page 16

By
MARILYN
CHIN

FROM A NOTEBOOK OF AN EX-REVOLUTIONARY
I pierced my nose once and bled
It scummed and scabbed and bled
I pierced a new hole and bled
It scummed and scabbed and bled
The infection refused to give
It scummed and scabbed and bled
*
White picket fence
A red chicken
Ain’t my people’s imagism
*
The urinal is perfect
NOT!
*
I dreamt that I was naked save a pair of designer stilettos and was ruthlessly networking at a
benefit soiree. Suddenly, I was catapulted into the midst of strangling this famous court poet. I
tried to deflect my scandalous action by arguing with the freckled-face bartender. “What kind of
a fucking Virgin Mary is this: where is the Tobasco? Whence the celery stick?” I watched the
world shrink into a penlight: how frail the court poet’s neck, how small this poetry world.
Meanwhile, an ex-student, an up and coming famous court poet, upchucked on my shoes! I
shouted, “ Goddamn, not on my brand new faux Pradas. If you’re going to genuflect, do it
before the porcelain Madonna!” To soothe myself, I sang a short ditty: Poor little rice-girl, little
rice-girl. Surely, the hem of privilege is soaked with crud.
.
*
Auntie Wu said to Michelangelo Wong, “How can you paint the Buddha so goodly and beget so
foul of children?”
Michelangelo Wong replied, “I paint the temple in the daylight and make my children in the
dark.”
*
(HARD LABOR)

14

Jon Yi was born in the caves of Yenan,
Did the Long March on his mother’s breast.
He grew up and became a Red Guard,
Placed a dunce cap on the very same mother,
Marched her to Sinjiang, to die of hard labor.