No Fish Today, Mother

No fish today, mother
Not to mention taking a bath
Washing my hands and feet,
They wouldn’t grant
My face an ablution.
Whenever I come close to
The little lawn next to the lake
Someone is there to fine me.

What?
A water bottle?
No!
I would say.
Just give me the Irrawaddy,
Yangtse or Volga waters,
I won’t compromise,
Not a bit.

I need a brush
To dust my brain.

Darling, I don’t want
Animal hair as a brush.

Hitler’s moustache
Stalin’s moustache
Kingwun’s moustache
Turn them into a brush
Then hand it to me
I won’t compromise,
Not a bit.

Audaciously brutal
Audaciously driven
Audaciously smooth
(some say it’s foreknowledge)
Ha . . . hah
Be honest,
Don’t be naïve.

Darling,
I don’t demand the polestar
I don’t demand a wedding ring
I don’t demand nga-kywe rice
I don’t demand genuine peanut oil

I’ve always been fed
Namphyit and mustard
Darling, tell me now
How will you convert me?

We are out in the open
More than parents
More than children
More than siblings
More than a husband
More than a lover
In the midst of a jungle.

Like an old scratchy record
Past is the past, you say
For our irreconcilable futures
Shall we go further and further
Back to back?

Ma Myakalay
Hlaing Hteik Kaung Tin
Kyi Aye
Memoirs of my love
Someone must write
Why should I compromise?
Not a bit.

NO FISH TODAY, MOTHER