Poem: Fraud

Posted by klammed on July 1st, 2008 | Categorized as Stories | 215 views and 3 Comments

Well it’s actually called Singaporean Chinese, I? , and written some time last year, I think.

The product of diaspora:

Eyes jet, hair of ebony,
Bronzed skin.

The spoke Cantonese, Hokkien.

I understand neither.
When I think ‘Mandarin’, I think
Not of the language,

But of oranges.

My mother tongue is not MY tongue.
I quote Shakespeare,

Know nothing of LiBai.

I reason; think; dream in—

I breathe English.
My mouth itches to lapse into
the sole dialect of familiarity:
Glaswegian.

Say “opera”, I see Pavarotti
Not Madame White Snake’s glistening gown.
”Instruments!” Why, violins, trombones, flutes.
What Guzheng? What Erhu?

Rice is not my staple, bread is.

Kueh Lapis and Ang Ku Kueh

I eat not. Scones and jellies

were there first.

Singlish feels foreign on my lips
I am Chinese, I am Singaporean,

but not bilingual.

Bicultural? I am alienated,

From one by birth, the other by upbringing.

Displaced, misplaced, forever skirting the fringes.
A lost, English-educated, Chinese illiterate,

Fraud.

Sarah-Ann Lee

Born 1990, Singaporean. Lived in Glasgow from '95 - '98. Presently living in Singapore.