The Chinese

I think about all of the things
I will not be able to explain to my children,
and I shake my head.

at least they’ll be able to change their oil.

the crash course that they are on:
my car is only a little bit farther ahead.
So no cause for self-mutilation.

We can’t all be the Chinese: that wise race
We are always being told about
on vitamin bottles in our grocery stores.

what American could’ve intuited a healing factor
In the grain of the deer turd, or the stolen memories
that rest in the pistil of a rare purple flower?

what Canadian or Englishman would’ve thought
to see the increased sexual potential to be found
in a bowl of shark fin soup?

of course I am joking at the Chinese. I know
that they are as stupid as we, and that there is no
real we or they.

it’s just easier to look elsewhere for help
when the wisest person you have ever known
is terrible at parallel parking.