The Language Inside (53 page)

I lean toward Zena

and read over her shoulder

the page displayed on her computer

a poem
As a Mermaid

written on her own

with blinks

then we sit

ready

in turn

patients and students

and students for patients

read poems

on all topics—

               a bicycle, storms, fingers, memories

in all sorts of forms—

               odes, haiku, free verse, even a sonnet

and after each one

people clap and
aah

and sometimes whoop

and Zena sometimes growls

and Serey and Samnang

and Portuguese and Spanish and other language speakers

murmur translations to their patients

Serey reads one woman’s memoir scene

about a way to catch fish in a lake

and another woman’s list poem

of things learned from her mother

then Serey reads her own poem

an ode to her
kben

which she explains is the long cloth

that is folded and wrapped around the body

and twisted and pulled

between the legs

to make the loose trousers

she dances in

my stomach flutters

as the turns to read

go around the circle

and approach

Zena and me

when it’s Zena’s turn I announce to the group

that Zena wrote her poem by herself on the computer

and everyone cheers

I read from the display:

    
As a Mermaid

    
wearing the tail

    
I can swim

    
not walk

    
but good enough

    
wearing the tail

    
I can repel

    
mean nurses

    
and get away

    
wearing the tail

    
I can lounge on the rocks

    
and watch the world

    
go by

    
wearing the tail

    
I can propel

    
myself forward

    
to poems

Zena beams her widemouthed smile

as everyone claps and
woots

then it’s my turn

and I release all the air in my lungs

take a huge breath and start

by explaining

               that I’m from Japan

               was raised in Japan

               that I was reading in Japanese

               before I was reading in English

               and that I just recently moved here

               and I’ll show them the kanji as I read

then I read my poem:

    
Lonely Is

    
when the language outside

    
is not the language inside

    
and words are made of just 26 letters

    
not parts that tell stories

    
like sun over birth for star

    
or four people under a roof for umbrella

    
or person and heavy and strength for work

    
when you stare at letters that make up

    
a word and the letters themselves

    
are just lines and shapes

    
that don’t tell stories that join

    
to create the story of the word

    
like a hiding sun

    
is dark

    
like a long road

    
is far

    
like a heart a long time

    
endures