Adrienne Su
May 2002

I Can't Become a Buddhist


because I grew up vaguely Methodist
and most of the Buddhists
I know are men who turned Buddhist

after finding the religion
in a prepubescent
girl serving prawns and chicken

in coconut milk, steamed sticky rice,
papayas, and a massage for the price
of a subway token. Because they drive

cars bearing FREE TIBET bumper stickers
but would let their neighbors wither
and starve. Because they slither

up and down the supermarket aisles
waiting for the chance to ask girls
like me Where are you really from? while

stocking up on mung beans and swelling
with the memory of that excellent
backrub in the hands of a thirteen-

year-old goddess who's probably dying
or dead or working for Nike at a dime
a sneaker. Because their renouncing

is pointed, because all they ever wanted
was to be different and Buddhism planted
the seed of a new Me in a stunted

self-image. Because they insist on roaming
the city in off-white robes, deflecting
the sun's hot gaze, saffron being

too conspicuous and white being too damned
unprofound and likely to be sandwiched
between red and blue in a crowd of Americans.

from Gargoyle, 1999.