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              destination: charlotte pike, nashville, tn 37209

妈妈 pushes the shopping cart from outside- b um p p it y y   bu m p i tt y-

on the harsh gravel of the parking lot

the store’s front is plasteredplasteredplastered with wrinkly papers-

old advertisements with phone numbers in BIG BLOCK letters 

printed in the ink smeaaared text

the sharp scent of 花椒 (black pepper) entangles itself 

with the smell of myriad fruits in the nearby aisle,

i wrinkle my nose. the strange fruits were oddly labeled 

in a language i could not fully understand…

not that i wanted or cared to… 

“应该条... (pick the fruits..)” 妈妈 says to me, 

but i am busy folding dolls from the grocery bags and the twisty wires 

if i could capture enough air in the bag before I QUICKLYtied it up, 

my doll would have a full gown,

 but i must leave enough of the plastic bag so that she could have long hair too…

then she would be beautiful enough

“no one likes girls with short hair” the friends from my preschool once told me

 my thick black hair was cut in a bob then, but not anymore, of course 

“才子西,  帮我拿个袋子 (jesse, help me get a bag)”, my 妈妈 says 

with her hands full of carefully selected 荔枝 (lychee)

i undo the knot from my doll and give my 妈妈 the cRinKleD bag

and as we leave the store, the familiar smell f a d  e    s     s    s  

but i find myself curiously sniffing the 荔枝 (lychee) in the car

                                                                 destination: 21st ave s, nashville, tn 37212

it’s last stop of saturday afternoon, sleepy in the backseat 

WRA- in the sun’s gentle blanket- PPED

shopping carts are inside of the carpeted entrance, 

and the store’s front is quaintly decorated for fall

a bushel of hay,  a smiling scarecrow

a gentle waft of bananas and the warm aroma

of the bakery’s bread welcomes mom and me

my eager fists grab the snacks- “can we get this?”

fruits first- apples, bananas, blueberries, then vegetables-

i knew the names of all of them by reading the neat little labels

near the end of our journey- there is an advertisement: 

a picture of a smiling girl. she was quite pretty- beautiful even

with lonnnggg blond hair... i smiled, touching my growing hair- 

it was almost past my shoulders now. but a slight frown creeped onto my face 

when i felt the thickness of my hair 

it was neither wavy nor a beautiful blond like hers,

but rather painfully straight and a boring jet-black

“come on jesse, let’s check out” my mom says, pulling me          away from the beautiful girl. 

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