This was inspired by Sandra Cisneros's poem, "You Bring Out the Mexican In Me." YOU BRING OUT THE VIETNAMESE IN ME after Sandra Cisneros You bring out the Vietnamese in me The waiting fireball. The suntanned angel on a rice terrace. The black haired miracle. You bring out the Vietnamese in me, the salted yellow boat child and military brat on airplane in me, the tracer-bullet eyed buddhist who gets presents on Christmas in me, the nuoc mam, ca phe sua da, mangoes and mang cut, mit and coconut, sugar dried strawberries in Da Lat and sweet xa xui stains Asian/American in me, the dry-season-heat hearted and black-eyebrow-as-floodgate for monsoon eyes in me, the three stripes of Song Huong blood under yellow flag skin and Song Me Kong spine in me, the phillips to cedar square projects to frogtown in a powderblue used Datsun blaring Depeche Mode in me, the aquanet mane and switchblade, razor boxcutter in left pocket baseball bat in the backseat gun in the glove compartment refugee in me, You, yes you, whiplash of black hair and your heart a rose of flame, You bring out the Vietnamese in me, The dragon and phoenix cuz though I tell everybody I'm Vietnamese I'm half Chinese in me, The agent orange kool aid drinker and burner of government cheese in me, The sharpener and painter of fingernails sipping ginger ale in plastic snap champagne glasses at Prom center while twisting tornado tango fandangoes in mango colored suits and white ruffled shirts in me, the I'm not gonna talk about love I'm gonna be it in me, the college degree prodigy thug in me, the communist/republican/I wish there were more Vietnamese progressives in me, the i'll change the oil filter my goddamn self and spend the money I saved on lottery tickets in me, the incense and cigarettes and white clothes at the funeral in me, the hip hop tennis captain kung fu expert don't fuck with me the thinking snow is beautiful and keeping it to myself in me, I am the most realistic dream you ever had, the dream you had to fight for to love, I am the one you stay up too late for, I am the one that tells his heart and soul to you after all the other stories have died, You bring out the Vietnamese in me, circling on the Le Loi boulevard loop with a thousand other young Saigon Viets, blinking tail lights of Honda Dream II mopeds like flicked cigarette butts and laughter like wind in the face, the firefly in a lee kum kee jar the terraced voice the sugarcane chunks in plastic bags v the weak beer and strong cigarettes the fanta cola the toothpick slinger the sudden death syndrome the Linda Trang Dai Dustin Nguyen Shortround Data kid in Goonies the Hai Ba Trung Nguyen Du Thich Nhat Hanh You bring out the Vietnamese in me tell my life by reading my palm and you'll find callouses that's why love is at home in my tired muscles and burns under my eyelids while I sleep, men, women, soldiers of every color have walked into my life, left burning flag shaped scars, left ghosts shaped like my family, left me for dead, I was the one who survived to love you. That's why my love is like rice growing from flooded bomb craters, I love to save myself from myself, I love so these things become me without ruling me, I love the way only a Vietnamese man can.

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