The matter with

Aileen Kuang

words, clumsy kleptomaniac on the tongue. Crash into one another. Punctu-populate sentence with apologies. Words, underlined in squiggles, hyperlink blue. In need of correction—speak if you dare, if what you write is Real. Finger to key, key to mothership-board; board to Retina, all aboard to retina. What is it to be real, for Real, for real. You Are An asian[ ]American Writer! Else stand to be ex-ed out, for Real. Throw away the Retina, replace it with a fire-engine red leather notebook. Vegan. It proclaims culture, if you know how to look at the words, words, words—Declaring yellow, but not banana, not twinkie: read red, pink, russet red from alcohol-induced blush to nail beds to large intestine. Congratulations. Mini-Retina pervades, persists, reflecting retina, rhetoric, retina in your pocket. It fucks the world to make your hyperlinks blue. These Words fuck our retina to make you hyperlink blue. Too real: asian[ ][American writer] you are.