If I were quizzed about my values,
I might recall some of the things
I value most: the endless meals
at Formosa, dated Taiwanese
singing contests idling in the back
part of my brain, or the time H
said ‘I am Australian man’, wound
down the window, shouting
‘fuuuucking cuuunt!’ as proof –
or when H said, ‘maybe we
could get married one day.’
Though that last, in case you
forgot, is something he and I
can’t do anyway (just FYI).
Or – I’m sorry – is this not
what that question means?
Perhaps these things are
un-translatable –
And quizzed upon my language
(which, decades on, I would not say
has been murdered – also just FYI),
I might speak on the time H said
‘I love you’, and I, cheesy grin
and all, gave my best 我爱你 .
I did start to learn but feared
my brain was just too small
(too Australian, even).
Or I might share the vocab
on H’s desk I puzzled over:
‘worth millions’ 百万身价
‘revolutionary’ 革命性
‘please don’t litter’ 请勿乱扔垃圾.
What they were for and why they
mattered mattering less than
that H wanted to learn them.
And if quizzed about how best
to integrate: I would think
it’s in the eyes, the held hands,
the tears, the maccas runs,
the break-ups, 5-year-plans,
the not-quite-sure, the
‘what are we?’, the whats-
app, fb messenger, line
‘i miss u kiss u’ come back
draw a map between our bodies
and they might name it a failed
land but my country is
your country 我爱你
Read the rest of Overland 229
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