on the train i see my grandfather | as a young man
10,247 km of water | seven seats away
looking through his reflection | at darkened mountains and doubled stars
ye ye | but that’s not his name
should i say something | what can i say
to a ghost in reverse
my grandfather was a young man | before he was father
before my father | i see him all the time
his ears | in the man choosing daikon
his hands | the same sinews as my landlord’s
they always said I had his mouth
i say nothing | let the train take us backwards
i know i will only hear the echo | of my accent
in the smooth disc of his face | the reverb
ringing on and on and on | through every rung of my DNA
under the reflection of city lights | caught in a fishnet of tumbling stratus
my Cantonese rusts beneath the sea | I cannot speak
my family history
our faces float | in tunnel darkness
blur in safety lights streaking across the glass
Adrienne Yeung is an emerging writer and performer who grew up on Treaty One Territory in Winnipeg, Manitoba. She is still figuring out what it means to be a second-generation Chinese-Canadian. Currently, she is studying a Master of Public Health on Unceded Coast Salish Territories in Vancouver. You can find her collection of rough crystal jewellery featuring queer people of colour at www.hexmetalsminerals.com. You can find some of her writing in Oratorealis, Untethered, and Whiny Femmes Zine.
Born in Taiwan and currently living in Vancouver, Christine Wei is presently completing her BFA at Emily Carr University. Inspired by the sometimes difficult but often wonderful everyday journeys through life, Christine enjoys creating illustrations that are simultaneously whimsical and searching, contemplative and sentimental. She illustrates with the hope that her work can free people from the confinement of their own realities, and inspire people to view their lives through their own creative lens. ➤ christinewei.me / @christinewsart