Longtang Sounds Best in Shanghainese & Contrapuntal

mā grew up in the lon-daon                                                   
                                                                                                       I grew up at the crossroad 
where dialects cloak mandarin                                 
                                                                                         mispronouncing her upbringing
accents boiling in a potluck                                                
                                                                                                   staple lon-daon as nòng táng
her generation marinates                                               
                                                                                                       my generation sips chai 
in the sweetness of braised pork bellies                                
                                                                                                                  but we call it tea as if
longjing weds English Breakfast                                   
                                                                                                    & the colonizers own foreign soil
but Shanghai will always belong to the lon-daon                   
                                                                                                                 we chant terra nullius 
on chú xī                                                                         
                                                                                                          I grew up at the crossroad
mā grew up in the lon-daon
                                                                                             trapped between two bustling lanes 
rows stooping low against sycamores
                                                                                                                  a construction site 
mazes blending blood lines
                                                                                         and yellow caps & neon orange vests
share one past written in 
                                                                                                    floating lanterns & the mud sky
one well of gossip
                                                                                                          rains fractured Shanghainese
simmering on the stoves
                                                                                            slurring & stammering Shang’s hai
until the lon-daon shatters
                                                                                                         & deconstructed the map
& rewrites the crossroad 
                                                                                                                             where I grew up

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Zixuan (Angel) Xin (she/her) is the Editor-in-Chief of The Gaia Review and The Lit, founded in 1895. She is the winner of Sine Theta Magazine’s 7th Annual Writing Contest, and a finalist for the 49th Parallel Award for Poetry and the 9th annual Granger’s Poetry Contest. Her works are forthcoming or featured in Sine Theta, The Columbia Review, The Columbia University Press, Milk Press, and Eunoia Review. She is recognized by the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center, the Poetry Society of New York, the John Locke Institute, and ONLY POEMS.