PAIGE CHUNG
FOUR, CUATRO, BỐN
a.) When I was four, I lived in
a three-bedroom loft in Caguas, Puerto Rico.
b.) I was pooping in the bathroom, when
laughter came from my parents' bedroom.
To see what I was missing, I left mid-poop
to shit in front of their TV.
My mother was upset with me.
c.) My friends only came around for manis and pedis,
then payed my parents before they left.
d.) My parents' nail salon was stationed between a
T-Mobile and Direct TV office.
Jugando Snake y viendo mucha televisión.
e.) "Chinita ven aqui! Chiniiitaaa....
ven Chinita, ven aqui.
¿Puedes hacer karate?
¿Por que no?"
f.) When I was four, I tried to escape
the 6th graders during recess.
"No quiero jugar afuera. ¿Puedo jugar aquí?"
El maestro responded: "Only if you sweep."
g.) Quá nóng in every classroom, no air
conditioner. Estoy sudando. Coming home to take off
my school uniform and watch Lilo & Stitch.
h.) At the nail salon- hablar español,
at home- nói tiếng việt,
at school- speak English;
my parents worried when I did not
speak until the age of four.
i.) When I was four, I loved
my babysitter Maria's house.
I ate her arroz con gandules in
between rides on her
husband's expeditions to see
how fast his wheelchair could
go.
j.) Reggaeton.
Every
single
night!
k.) Going to cô Ty's casa in the jungle,
her pet snake,
fully-tiled bathroom,
Buddha shrine,
handmade hammock;
her magical Jeep transported me away
far, far from the land of nails.
l.) "Đụ má quá nhiều tiền" my father
said every time the $600 private school
bill would come each month,
no matter how many
pedicure appointments were made.
m.) When I was six, I sat in the window seat
of a Boeing 727 looking down at
mis playas con parcha helado,
arena blanca y aguas turquesas.
THE SOLUTIONS
TO LINH'S
PROBLEM
Solution #1
You grab Cà phê from the granite counter and your raggedy Coach purse on the way to your dented 2008 Honda. Pull up onto 8th and Grand. Glance out at the tall, rounded construction and quickly decide to keep driving past the parking garage valet using your twelfth "sick" day. You think about Vu having the flu today, Tran having a guitar lesson after-school, and Mike needing a ride to the airport. You find the closest directions to the nude beach after ordering the Pan Roasted Atlantic Salmon special with grilled asparagus and onion rings from BOA Steakhouse.
Solution #2
Mike is waiting for you to get home so he can ask for your credit card information while he snorting sweet nose candy with a Lincoln bill. After his nap, he curses at Vu's laziness and threatens to kick Vu out of the house if he doesn't lose weight.
Solution #3
Park the car and pay the capitalistic price of $25 for a day meter. Lay your phone right in front where the waves will consume it. Take your top off and tan all of your back like you have always wanted. Pop open a Heineken and crack open the cheap People magazine. Kim and Kanye's drama really have nothing on you. Thao and The Get Down tunes against the whitecaps on waves make your problems tinier than the sand grains next to the endless ocean. Don't look at the time. Don't think about responsibility. And don't you dare think about Mike.
Solution #4
The sun steals the ocean's water and you realize playtime is over. Your shift has already started. And traffic. You put your top back on, trash People and the bottle, gather the rest of your stuff, and hop on the 110 freeway home.
Solution #5
Lock all the doors after stealing some of Mike's delicious powder and snort as much as your nose allows. Use liquid poison to down too-many-to-count 800 milligrams Tylenols which should take all the pain away - should. Let your mom find you in the living room when she comes to check in on you and teach you the secret family Phở recipe. Let her and your sisters figure out how they will keep their houses and pay their bills without the oldest always taking care of everyone. Who's taking advantage of who now?
Solution #6
Send the boys to your sister's house who has always been a better parent than you. She promises that she will "boot camp all over their asses and return angels to you at the end of the summer". Cut Mike off from all the credit cards, kick all his shit out of the house two blocks over, and get a restraining order on his ass. Tell your brother he needs to get his own place with his own job and take care of his responsibilities. Make an appointment with a therapist one neighborhood over that deals with immigrants and sexually assaulted victims. Explain to her that you have taken care of everyone you have ever known and their second cousin. Tell her you are tired. Hire a maid. Buy that new Louis purse you deserve.
Solution #7
Grab Cà phê from the granite counter and your raggedy Coach purse on the way to your dented 2008 Honda. Pull up onto 8th and Grand. Tip the Valet an extra $1 so he gives you the closest parking spot. Buy Vu antibiotics before dropping off Tran at her guitar lesson after-school, and Mike needing a ride to the airport. Pick up extra popsicles and chicken nuggets for Tran's friends when they come over for band practice. Buy some more basketball shorts for Vu because he keeps growing and video games to surprise him before telling him he needs a flu shot. Fill out paperwork so Mike can be on the joint bank account. Sit on the stained blue suede couch and flip through TV channels until you reach Monk and tune out.
LOTTERY TICKETS
Every Christmas, we sit around our wooden table and mommy passes out lottery tickets.
We pass around a jar of quarters and pull up our sleeves
The room is silent except for
Scratch, scratch …. ….. scratch, scratch … … .. … …… scratch, scratch, scratch
Last Christmas, Auntie Choung taught all the kids to roll dice.
“No one wants to play”
“We’re broke”
“Okay FINE. Mommy can I borrow $5?”
“Me, too.”
She hustled all of us to pool in our hard-earned money
from waiting tables and our minimum wage jobs.
We rolled.
We cheered.
We laughed.
Huddled around and stared into the middle of the table.
And my cousin Kyle won the $32 pot.
Every Christmas, mommy sends me out to the liquor store on the York and Figueroa St.
She sends me to the same gas station.
Last Christmas, I went to pick them up on the new
liquor store on York and Avenue 56.
They just renovated it to stay in touch with the yoga and coffee shops.
After we all scratched, she was upset no one won,
not even another scratcher, usually someone wins like $10.
I told her we went to the new
liquor store on York and avenue 56
She proceeded to yell at me for ten minutes about not being a millionaire.
“But you haven’t won from the other gas station.
Your luck can’t be that good there.”
She doesn’t like that comment.
After we eat dinner,
everyone goes home.
HOBEN HALL
Door Slamming Door Slamming Door Slamming
people walking page turning lounge chilling
freshman yelling book buying chair breaking
people crying laptop buying sink breaking
freshman snitching test cramming kitchen cooking
student drinking stress spreading ramen eating
drink clinking sick spreading ass eating
secret spilling gossip spreading window breaking
girl laughing study grinding squirrel finding
boy running fear escaping sun setting
condom finding
hickey hiding Door Slamming Door Slamming
Viet speaking fools flirting
head turning me writing rhyme flowing
cheeks clapping Viet learning door breaking
gay coming me finding heart breaking
hands drying me loving love falling
Door Slamming Door Slamming Door Slamming
snow falling stair stomping hearts hollowing
layer wearing party going music following
hoop wearing fats rolling mixtape dropping
fists raising book reading dream flopping
poster tearing tinder swiping dream chasing
people fighting drunk shouting pen moving
Jorge meeting dare taking people changing
roommate fighting quad streaking friend coming
netflix binging drug searching friend leaving
bathroom smelling past clingling
future waiting
BUZZ OFF!
A top destination vacation spot,
a good deal they caught.
Where bed bugs, mosquitoes, sun rays like to stay,
and my skin, they love to prey.
On a hot summer's day,
mosquitoes dip their toes into Type O cesspools.
Secreting sweet sweat and bolstering bacteria,
mothers feen on my biofuels.
Her long mouth pierces into my skin,
a food bank for baby eggs, new kin.
Mama finds blood vessels, bloody mary stirred specials,
and nonconsensual blood donations make me tremble.
Itchy sensations cause me to react,
a swelling rises and I am under attack.
She got me so itchy, I'm bitchy,
and I'm singing like Lionel Richie.
From sorry slaps and human hands,
Mama mosquito gots to be fast before she collapse.
Paige Chung is a poet and skater. Her last project Nail Trap is juicier than your neighborhood gossip and her current project is hotter than your cousin's mixtape. Based in Los Angeles but she rolls everywhere: see what's next at miublue.com.