Stale with cologne and hair tonic
crowded trains rush through rice fields
suited men absorbed in thick comic books

I in bagging red tights and plaid skirt
do not let the gray kimono ladies' frowns
squelch my laughter among my blond-haired friends

Stares and murmurings have grown up with me
the street vendor awed when I purchase
hot octopus and thank him in his native tongue

I dream of the America I only know through
The Partridge Family reruns dubbed in Japanese
where Lincolns and Chevrolets cruise wide streets

But when the mysterious motherland I visit,
they ask nothing about hot bowls of noodles,
deer at the temple or stuffy train rides to school

A belly filled with Hershey chocolate and apple pie
the envy of my blond-haired friends
I count the days till Gaijin will be my name again.

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about the poem:
* Gaijin: Japanese word for foreigner.
This poem was the winner of the Carolina Woman Writing Contest (NC) in May 2001.  

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about the author:
Alice J. Wisler is the founder of Daniel's House Publications, a non-profit organization for bereaved parents and siblings. She edits the monthly grief ezine, Tributes, and is the author of "Slices of Sunlight" and "Down the Cereal Aisle."
Website: http://www.geocities.com/griefhope/index.html  

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