“Enter the Dragon 2000”
The Lunar New Year is upon us, we are entering the Year of the Dragon, NOW, we rush you to the immediate, “instanter,” as Olson says, to our correspondent for New Years Chinese-style, Russell Leong, who files this poem-report:
Wishing you the best the Year of the Dragon. . . .
Enter the Dragon 2000
Bruce Lee
Left us a long time ago
Kicking the air into architecture
art and essence.
To enter the dragon, head East.
East into the San Gabriel Valley
Way past Pasadena, Altadena
the Santa Anita Racetrack
Arcadia, Monrovia
Inching behind a thousand taillights
7:00 the eve of the new year.
To enter the dragon, make a left
off Irwindale Blvd., home
to small industries like
metal olympic torches,
veneer and laminate furniture
paper, cardboard, and electronic parts
assembled minimum wage
by Salvadoran and Vietnamese refugees.
You don't quite expect it
coming up on you
as you turn into Foothill Blvd.
Cinderblock and concrete
malls yet for rent
A dark, moonless sky
lonesome, somehow.
To enter the dragon
Step gently on your brakes
when you see
Red glow neon
A parking lot
for one thousand cars
Pacific Pearl Seafood buffet
All you can eat
7.99 dinner special
It's the Year of the Dragon
Enter the dragon
Through the glass doors
Plastic pink roses and plastic purple grape clusters
stuffed in porcelain vases
One side of the enormous room
Latinos, Filipinos, and whites
regular folks
pile eggrolls, pizza slices, and steak
and broccoli onto white plastic plates
squeeze themselves into vinyl booths
and go back for seconds and thirds.
Other side of the room
rented for the night
made-up Chinese women
in short fitted jackets
red, gold, and green
dangly jade pendants and diamond earrings
middle-aged men with dark suits and ties
looking at the stacks of gold and red boxes
hoping their ticket will win them a DVD machine
or Sony color television, the grand prize.
Enter the Dragon.
Red and green tinsel pineapples
hanging from air-conditioning ducts
and red squares with the character
for Spring
turned upside down
Latino and Chinese
busboys pour buckets of
buddhist bamboo shoots
sliced pizza
fried shrimp
smoked tea duck
california roll sushi
kung bao chicken
white rice fried rice
onto steel platters
Enter the Dragon
Ten thousand years more
for everyone sitting here
from China, Taipei, Tibet, Hong Kong,
Hawaii, Wisconsin, New York, St. Augustine, Florida
and everywhere!
We bow and toast each other
bobbing our heads
wiping the grease from our lips and hands
before we pile our plates again.
Karaoke music begins
and between each song
Miss Peony Wang Lin and Mr. Bronson Kao
well-known local newscasters
disperse the red and gold boxes:
Winners tear off the foil grinning at their
packages of ginseng tea, dried mushrooms,
more of the same.
After three hours we all smell tossed
and fried: the essences of sixty dishes
we smell like the Pacific Pearl Seafood buffet
walking advertisements
year of the dragon specials
our sweat and perfume
replaced by peanut and sesame oilv our pomade and hair gel
as if a busboy poured
soy and oyster sauce over our heads
our Rolex watches
and jade bracelets
coated with glistening molecules of oil
our tongues parched with MSG
filaments of onion and pork and pizza dough
stuck between our teeth.
Outside, take a breather
or a smoke
in the parking lot
even the car fumes smell good
Pay homage to moonless sky
Admire no architecture
Breathe no essence
As if Life is Zen
And silence a koan
With a fast kick and a punch
I shatter the glass windows
overturn tables and chairs
crush plastic grapes and roses
bring it all back again
run crazy through buffet aisles
overturning platters of sizzling meat and noodles
till the cops come, arrest me, take me away
To LA County Hospital
Because by now I'm naked
Pudgy 50-year old bowlegged Chinaman.
Dyed hair purple under the neon.
No suit, no shirt, no tie, no pants
no nylon socks, underwear, shoes, nothing nada.
No fake Rolex. No dyed jade. No shiny manicured nails.
Naked. Essence. Original Architecture.
I've entered the dragon I tell them!
spittle drooling from the corners of my mouth
arms and legs bruised and cut
a number and a white band
Clipped securely around my wrist
Like the other guys in here: Black, Latino, White
and everyone else on new year's eve.
They will hold me for observation.
The restaurant, no doubt, will sue me for damages.
The customers will file suit too.
They will impound my car for unpaid speeding tickets.
This is February 4th, 2000.
This is Irwindale, San Gabriel Valley, Los Angeles,
United States of Amerika.
This is the world without the Dragon.
This is the world without Bruce Lee.
--Russell Leong
Editor, Amerasia Journal
More Russell Leong on the Net:
- His poem “Aloes Off I-5” is in the Home section at Los Angeles Culture Net.
- In 1997, About.com Poetry featured his poem “Shatter the Glass Wall,” written to honor Wei Jing-Sheng on his arrival in the United States after China released him.
