I live in a doorway between two rooms,

I hear someone shouting in Chinese,

Exuberance quickly muted by the

Red firecrackers.

My cheek turning red from all the pinches

from relatives that I don’t even recognize.

Hunched over a table,

Folding pork dumplings,

I am called American a million times.

I peek in the other room of

Sun lizards.

My friends bask in the rays of California sunshine, listening to throwbacks

on the pink portable speaker we all chipped in to buy.

Laughing and teasing each other, our

Sneakers thumping onto the black concrete,

Running wild in the street.