Poem Choice
Where Is My Country? (Lights on the bridge and center stage ) Where is my country? Where does it lie? The 4th of July approaches and I am asked for firecrackers. Is it because of my skin color? Surely not because of my husband's name. In these skyways I dart in and out. One store sells rich ice cream and I pick bittersweet nuggets. In the office someone asks me to interpret Korean, my own Cantonese netted in steel, my own saliva. Where is my country? Where does it lie? Salted in Mexico where a policeman speaks to me in Spanish? In a voice of a chinese grocer who asks if I am Filipino? Channeled in the white businessmen who discovers that I do not sound chinese? Garbled in a white woman who tells me I speak perfect English? Webbed in another who tells me I speak with an accent? Where is my country? Where does it lie? Now the dress designers flood us with a chinese look, quilting our bodies in satin stitching our eyes with silk. Where is m...