Apple, as in what Gwyneth Paltrow named her
Baby, pre-conscious uncoupling from Chris Martin,
Coldplay’s frontman, because when you’re a WASP,
“Divorce” is dirty. In high school, I watched Carmen
Electra say “I do” to Dave Navarro on MTV, when
Fuck, I was getting bullied on the regular—a Chinese
Girl in a sea of white watching white women proclaim
Happily Ever After and 'Til Death Do Us Part, on TV.
I thought I was undesirable. Unlovable, sounding
Just like a Bachelor lead, with way less privilege, not
Kissing generically gorgeous ladies in Forever 21 gowns.
“Lesbian. You dress like a lesbian,” a school bully once
Mouthed. Thank You & Keep Looking at my clothes from
Nordstrom, I’d say. Fashion has always been a queer’s
Ostentation. Feathers. Boas. Sparkle. The nipple bra at
Peak performance. Kim Kardashian, can we go beyond
Quotidian nudes and into chartreuse & banana & magentas &
Reds & sunsets for optimum seduction down the street?
Sexiness personified. Sweater Girl™. Sucking on a lollipop
Tramping down Collegetown was the game in my 20s.
Under my sheets, you’d find European PhDs fawning—
Very early me beginning to understand Asian Fetish or
Western men seeking validation & co. from exotic others:
XOXO & shopping trips & “We found love” & dinners:
Yellowtail sushi & miso & roe & uni & sake & their confusion.
Z, or falling asleep next to an older man wondering if there’s
Anything better for you out there, in the whole wide world.
Baby, as in what Humphrey Bogart, twenty-five years senior,
Called Lauren Bacall—how Hollywood standards of beauty
Definitely include age-gap relationships with older men, or
Enticement. Seductress, a man fourteen years older said,
Feigning care, then demanding sex three weeks later, his
Gaudy outfits in a cheap hotel room. Fop. Flop. Gigi,
Hollywood’s last musical from MGM’s Golden Age
I’d watch on weekends, during high school, a queer kid
Jealous I couldn’t find love quickly like my counterparts:
Kids who spent Friday nights at football games, calling me
Loser during Phys. Ed. when I didn’t hit the volleyball:
Majority rules. White supremacy. The boys in Calculus
Never apologized for calling me bitch and c***. I achieved
Orgasm quickly at ten. In loneliness, I’d observe & find
Profound meaning through my body. The clitoris, a site of
Questioning—breasts developed and acne by age nine,
Ready too soon. I get furious with what the white lens
Says about Asian femmes being studious. Stoic. Nurturing.
Tempting. Or Beware, white women: your white husbands will
Untie their marriages and leave you for us. I was slut-shamed
Voraciously during college, after nights of grinding in clubs.
Winning is midnight at Chanticleer in Ithaca when he buys you
XYZ alcohol under the sun, with pineapple and sweet & sour,
Your very own blue Fishbowl, complete with Swedish Fish &
Zebra plastic toy, to dance the night away—grind until sunrise.
