well bubalah we beam because our light has faded

hasn’t it yéled, hasn’t it yacchii

hasn’t it boy

         when we jaunted to synagogue last saturday 

and donned our inscribed yarmulkes, you haven’t felt the anxiety of

the loose cap falling from your head during haftarah as the bar mitzvah 

speaks in your unintelligible childhood tongue

moses gets old and rambles out mitzvot

and on the day that boys become men

you became erratum

the afterparty was congested with questions

you’re getting so handsome, have you found a girlfriend yet

no no I’m in a relationship

oh

throughout the onslaught of normalities you kept up that smile

that luster of unease, that glow of cringe

         when baa-baa told us we’d fly to okinawa

and stay with relatives in october, you haven't felt the shame of

neglecting the language she

tried to teach you once

in her old cactus garden next to the street

she’s proud to this day that her baby grandson

remembered the japanese word for grandma

yet forgets you can’t count past hachi

your yaaninju might not even speak english

they’ll ask you in okinawan dialect

nice to meet you, have you found a girlfriend

uh... gomennasai… (grandma what are they saying)

you’d flash an awkward glint of teeth

idling as baa-baa translates a guilty absence to familiar queries

         when your folks listened to a medical podcast with you

in the parking lot on your first day of highschool, you haven’t felt the tension

as an orator introduced themself with they/them pronouns

and your mom asked

do you know anything about this

and you shook your head

and a semester later you dated a boy

your folks don't know what to say sometimes

are you a they, a she-he, or what

but their hearts are still replete

your grin is re-lit with a hint of cheery head-shaking

everytime they crack up to newfound lingo

or tell you anything queer they read in articles

for every phrase you’ve lost to the annals of time,

mom and pop have learned a new word for child

a beam is a very useful thing my friend

         when we’re ignorant to our spoken blood

         when we’re fit haphazardly into a hamper

         when we’re called a good boy and patted on the head

         and grabbed by the cheek and someone 

         uninvitingly rips away our mask to get a better look at our face

         because they’ve blotted out what we’ve become

you beam bright on clamped lips

you weren’t always faded, Ḥayyim-gwaa, and your light will ebb before it flows

TRANSLATIONS

bubalah — sweetie

yéled/yacchii — boy

haftarah — selective readings from the Torah

mitzvot — Jewish law

baa-baa — grandmother

hachi — eight

yaaninju — family

gomennasai — informal apology

Ḥayyim — common Hebrew name for religious context

-gwaa — suffix of endearment