Made in AmericaI was made in America
Not in Vietnam like a Tahari suit
I was manufactured in America
From the idea to the finished product
In the sweaty summer night of 1984
My brother was away with friends
Mother put on Chanel No. 5 and nothing else
It spoke, I want you
Mother look at Father and she remember
He was the soldier who yanked her into the haven of a helicopter
Escaping the jungle stained with sangria blood
Escaping the yellow men with guns
Mother wanted another child
A little living doll with Fathers face
Their own American-made imp running around the house
With no fear of the veiled bombs in the ground
By morning, Father was gone to work
Mother put her hand on her stomach
And waiting for the freedom she felt for herself and her child
Nine months and ten days of no napalm or evil men in brown suits
The Portrait of MichaelHere comes the Ice Cream Man!
I go to him on my bad days
I go to him on my good days
He is Red Bull
He is Pop Rocks
He is Oz
Hes one in the afternoon
When the day is clear, bright and blue like his eyes
His skin is French vanilla
Skin is chocolate-chip cookie dough
Skin felt like fresh linen
His scent of oriental wood and oranges
His voice sounds like a spider monkey
Sounds still in puberty at twenty-two
His hair felt like a six month old puppy
Hair is like chocolate
He is my punching bag
Im his quilt
I always can talk to him about everything
Open to him like a naked pervert with a trench-coat
Minus the slapping, hissing and the kicking in the face
And the heavy burden of guilt blowing up in my face
I will always invest my emotions with him
With no sign of a depression
He came to my life like a soda jerk
Added, Altered, shaken, turning into a whole new me
We come, left and come again together as if were cowboys
Fondly, secretly, frequently and eating pudding
Saving Face or Saving YourselfWhat if I tell my family that Im dating a non-Chinese man?
They glare at me if I have a bloody A on my breast,
Or will act like a troubled Tevye and disown me,
They will chase after me like Im a re-animated monster.
They want me to date a Chinese man,
Not Japanese or Korean, but Chinese,
All for the sake of cultural purity,
Gee, why is that borderline racist?
From time to time my non-Chinese friends ask me, Why is it matter?
I froze as I pause for a little while,
I want to say Everything. But thats not enough.
How can explain this concept of face to them?
That I have to avoid the mark of shame to get their love.
Talk softy, marry early, have kids, youre a woman; its your duty to be a good wife.
I have to obey these demands,
All for the sake of saving my familys reputation and not for the sake of my own heart.
All for the sake of not being shun by my family despite being the Stepford daughter for decades