rebelinfant
An alter in every Vietnamese home here in vietnam. Red, adorned with wood carvings of dragons, embellished with fruits, rice, pork meat, and incense sticks in vases filled with sand, in dedication to our ancestors. My ancestor's portraits. the family will meet here every so often and pay our respects, hold the incense sticks before the alter and bow down three times, get on our knees, put our foreheads to the floor and get up again and shake our hands for three more times. every vietnamese house has an alter. but since emigrating to america, i don't know how many vietnamese americans have an alter. my family doesnt. i dont know what will become of the alter. the family.
I wrote about this stick before. I said Phallus, and I said a tree branch. A phallus, a penis. A tree branch. But I got dirty when writing about the phallus. It was before I made an account with my name to it, so I went wild. But I can't go wild now, because my name is on here. Oh the inhibitions, the confines. But really, who would care. I am just being narcissistic thinking anyone would care. A tree branch, however. Annie, my 5 year old neighbor. I was three, she was five. Points of the tree branch were covered in tree sap and we caught ants that marched to and fro the crack in my driveway. She left one day, my best friend, and never came back.