Poem: An Overnight Foreigner 


Fasten my seatbelt for a flight
Ascending through the time zones and into another country’s night
A boy afraid of turbulence, must hold on tight
 Landing awake with a sunrise
My native tongue now archaic to my ears and to my eyes
Funny characters I can’t read, an idiom’s disguise
 These people here they greet me with a bow
What did I do for such respect and how?
I’ve become a minority at this moment, just right now.
 My father tells me I’ll have to make brand new friends
And mother says she’s not sure she likes this place, it’ll depend
As I carry my suitcase toward the mysteries which impend
 This food that I’m eating, it’s a lot of which I like
Yet it’s enclosed in funky fishiness, hard to take a bite
don’t breathe as I swallow and I’ll be alright
 When I step on the subway, I’m stared at quite oddly
I’m not a commoner, kids pointed when they saw me
A street artist asks politely if he can have a minute to draw me
 Guess what I found in Asia after two years?
Our names, skin and language are the only separate tiers
Other than that we’re just seeing ourselves through alternate mirrors