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Sport 33: Spring 2005


page 75


What a beautiful confusion!
Chinatown is teeming with broken samples
of Cantonese and French;
my ears hold out

for just a little hint of English.
I must refrain
from using my useless French
(Je voudrais deux biscuits s'il vous plaît)

because the slightest bonjour
will set off a chain of dialogue
en français that my deux biscuits
cannot handle.

Even my fractured Chinese
is of no use here—the only thing
it's good for is accompanying
radio static.

Steaming cups of ying-yang tea
(half tea, half coffee, all good)
and fresh pineapple buns
make the introduction

so much easier to handle.
All You Can Eat Yum Char
really is as dangerous
as it sounds.