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  • At age 10, I showcase my ability at blowing spit bubbles
  • Andy Sia (bio)
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Andy Sia, poetry

Which is sure to earn the ire of my 10-year-old peerswith their piano-playing, basketball-hooping, or such otherlesser talents. But I must persist. I'm a symbol-makerof sorts, you'd say. Out of my mouth: a little balloonconstructed tenuously and bravely from strands of moleculespolymerized together. It's a little bubble of hope. My littleantiestablishment baby. It makes it all the wayto the bottom, stays, and finally pops. My mother hates it.She calls it the demise of bourgeoisie values.Once a security guard caught me practicing my artin the nearby park. He instructed me to stop my obscenedriveling. I paid no heed, sent a bubble towards himlike a free-spirited man in a parachute. He wasunmoved. I lose hope, sometimes. I grow weary. I thinkwhat if the only type of people in this world were peoplefearful of beauty? Or worse, what if I wereto outgrow my bubbles? I cannot think of a lonelieranimal than the boy looking through the railingsof the roof deck of his school, spitless and unwonderful.When the bell rings, the schoolchildren swarmthrough the yard, looking up, awaitingthe globes of unimaginable softness that willnever come. I won't forsake my purpose, today. So muchrides on my willfulness. I won't ever forget myself againlooking at my spherical reflection flying ahead. [End Page 341]

Andy Sia

andy sia is a Bruneian of Chinese descent. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Colorado Review, Meridian, and Missouri Review. He recently earned his BA from Colgate University.

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