collaborative storytelling that is equal parts critical and creative
I. chinese tooth fairy
before my dad at age ten
lost his mom to lymphoma
he got a tooth pulled
and cried and cried in pain
on their walk home
his ma ma bought him an asian pear which
in Nanchang they usually saved for
New Years as a delicacy
II. my grandma speaks to her older sister
let me hold your folded hand
I’d rather my fingers curl for good
if it meant yours would unfold
and the tremors would stop
feel me brush your eyelids
let my cold fingers transfer
freshness to your eyes caked with
dried yellow residue and
let the faint smile on your lips spread
my daughter and granddaughter whom I
pulled out of bed, still jetlagged, at 6 am
to see you and now my daughter’s eyes are filling
she is remembering that time you snuck her an asian pear
she was still a little girl and
you told her not to tell
her cousins (your own children)
asian pears were expensive and
you had only one to give
III. my roommate cuts us fruit
she is allergic to most pears
except those giant asian pears
of which her mom dropped off two
in our kitchen the fluorescent light
melts into warmer yellow lampglow
where we gather by the dining table
heads buried eyebrows furrowed
necks craned down to absorb
body parts on screens and books
I sense a fruit bowl emerge
filled with sliced asian pears and
when I pick up a wedge I am startled by its size
my roommate cut them large on purpose
better for sharing, she says