There is no room for me

There is no dish for me

There is no one for me

There are only greasy Formica tables

Lazy Susans and Pu’erh cha

Wafting out of porcelain teapots

There is only disgusting food

Mystery meats and cheap fried rice

Presented on chipped ceramic plates

There are only dim sum carts

And aunties, uncles, and cousins

There are no Mrs. , Mr.

Ma’am’s or Sirs

There are only lucky cats and scenes of a historic past

Sticky carpets and kitschy décor

There is no gentrification

Disguised as “fusion”

Seeking to erase

Remedies of cultural scorn

Food.

About the Author

Diane Huang is a first-year arts student at the University of British Columbia. She was a staff reporter and senior editor at the Edge, an award-winning Canadian secondary school newspaper. If not reading for school, she can be found daydreaming and drinking tea.