The Traveler (unfinished poem)

The Traveler

I am more than brown skin
Black hair
Brown eyes
With a slight tilt
I am more than rice and fish
Son of immigrant parents
Island born

Mainland raised

They say it’s five o’clock somewhere in the world

So I just sit here
Waiting for my drink
My numbing agent
My escape from all that is real
Nibble on some peanuts
Maybe a banana or two
My mother always said I needed more potassium so better make that three
And since I’m a monkey anyway
might as well make that four
See…they used to call us monkeys, you know

Little brown ones at that

I am stranger

Foreign land dweller

But I belong

I am here

Tax paying civilian

Working as hard as the next person

But I will not conform
I will not shuck and jive

For your entertainment

I will not be him
Or her

Or them

I’ll simply be me

And I will not be Christian for the sake of religion
I will not put on a show so you can consume yourself into churchianity debt
See…I am Christian
But I’m defined more by Jesus

than I am doctrine

And, let me just say,
I am also frustrated
I am frustrated by the exclusivity of the church
The place where foreigners
Immigrant land dwellers
… (unfinished thoughts)

I am handsome
At least I am to my wife

And maybe to my mom

I am gardener
Day worker
Office assistant
I am police officer
Fire fighter
Postal worker
I am barista
Hipster beard and all
I am teacher


I am president

I am here

I am home

And we are here to stay


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