Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Drink the Bitter Rain--by Kyi May Kaung

Moe Kha Ye Thauk (Drink the Bitter Rain)

Last night as I was making red velvet cake from a mix
I took photos at various stages
and I thought
how like a red mud volcano
na ka bwet   this looks.

The 1 1/4 cups of water
the 3 egg whites beaten
added
(because I can't eat egg yolks
which are beaten with water
and fed to my sanseveria/mother in law's
tongue and my wandering Jew--

all purple and always
growing
downwards.

Then when I added the 1/4 cup
cooking oil  and stirred some more
with my whipping implement

it looked even worse
like a cake dough
made of
blood.

Tonight as I wash out my very successful
muffin pan for cupcakes
bought on sale at Williams Sonoma

and use the rough sponge and the
pot cleaner
to get all the red stuff out of the
rounded corners

I think

What is wrong with me?

It must be that people don't want to hear what I say.

They want to hear the marriage is good

that they are not wife and child beaters.

They want to hear they are saviors of the nation

not land grabbers and hardwood and petroleum
auctioneers and cronies
and cronies of cronies.

They want to hear that they did a good job and are not
rotten self-appointed "leaders"
with a monopoly on
Violence--
as my pol sci texts say.

They want to hear they are great employers
who run a clean shop
a good shop

not a shop where sleeping around
sleeping your way to the top

back and front stabbing each other
slanting the news and

getting away with it
are de rigueur.

As I took a photo of the pebyoke
boiled vattana beans bought

at the Indian grocery in MD

I realize the label says

"ah lwan pye pe boke"

(Home-sickness curing boiled beans)

Did these come all the way from Burma?
No, made in L.A.

The Indian shop owners are such
wonderful merchants
they smile all the time

ah pyone ma pyet buu

They take credit cards.

They have a small statue of Ganesha  (Maha Pein Ne Nat)
they tell me they are from Gujarat.

Just like 3 separate friends of mine.

As I crumble up the dried fish
and pour 3 or 4 tablespoons of oil on it

I think

What's wrong with me.

What's wrong with free trade.

Now I don't need to go all the way to Thailand--to buy Burmese food.

What's wrong with me?

Am I the only one saying

The Rain is Bitter?

Copyright Kyi May Kaung
4-2-2014




Emile Zola--wiki

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89mile_Zola