the stars are yellow
​
​yonsei can you see?
by the VONS blue security light?
what’s so proudly we hailed:
Uchinaa, Hawaii, LA
and our ancestors just beaming,
just dreaming.
​
But who’s broad shoulders and bright scars
did she — sorry — they inherit?
​
Engineering major declared,
ignoring workplace stares.
But their mortgage, that mortgage,
was proof that the dream was still there.
(the American one, I mean.)
​
Yonsei does that slur-spangled,
self-hating hyphenate yet crave?
​
Yonsei, can you see?
Your identity is a measure of how
long you’ve been away
​
“Yonsei” emblazoned on your heart.
“Yonsei” emblazoned on your IG, Tinder, Twitter profile.
“Yonsei” a yamatunchu word for an American-English concept of forever foreignness.
​
Yonsei, do you see?

​read it to me​

what what

what what is a prompt for you, dear reader, that I ask you to indulge me in. let me waste a little of your time.

what are you?

what do you write in your social media bio? what would you write in your bio if you wanted to be seen so fully by anyone who read it? what identities are important to you to claim? what identities do you feel you have been given, but perhaps would not have chosen for yourself?

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