‘GOOGLE’ and other poems

Mandy Moe Pwint Tu

GOOGLE 
After Leila Chatti 

what’s happening in ukraine 
what’s happening in russia 
what’s happening in ukraine right now 
what’s happening in ukraine 2022 
what’s happening in canada 
what’s happening in taiwan 
what’s happening in australia 
what’s happening in mazomanie 

what’s happening in myanmar 
what’s happening in my area 
what’s happening in my neighborhood 
what’s happening in myanmar now 
what’s happening in myrtle beach this weekend 
what’s happening in my community 
what’s happening in myanmar today 
what’s happening in my neighborhood app 

ways to help ukraine 
ways to help a sore throat 
ways to help ukraine right now 
ways to help with nausea 
ways to help anxiety 

poetry is not a luxury 
poetry is like 
poetry is what gets lost in translation 
poetry is growing in your garden 
poetry is dead 

how to write poetry in the middle of a war 
how to write poetry in the middle of a warning 
how to write poetry in the middle of a warehouse 

how to write poetry in the middle of a revolution 

how to pray for ukraine 
how to pray for someone 
how to pray for healing 
how to pray for a miracle 
how to pray for forgiveness 
how to pray for someone who is sick 
how to pray for your husband 
how to pray for others 
how to pray for a husband 

how to pretend everything is fine 
how to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not 
how to pretend ever 
how to pretend like everything’s okay  
how to pretend you’re fine 

— —

I’m Feeling (Un)Lucky 

it takes everything in me to ask 

what’s happening in ukraine right now 

in the same breath it takes to check 

what’s happening in myanmar today 

i coax snow off my bed, investigate 

ways to help you sleep 

you murmur in a sigh like shellshock 

poetry is dead 

I’m trying to learn 

how to write poetry in the middle of a war 

teach me how to write a warning 

this morning i Googled 

how to write poetry in the middle of a revolution 

what i really meant: teach me 

how to pretend you're fine 

teach me 

how to pray for a miracle

— —

NEWS CYCLE 

My country drowns in international headlines and cannot come up for air. AUNG SAN SUU KYI MOVED TO PRISON SOLITARY CONFINEMENT is another way of asking DOES THE WEST STILL CARE? Every time someone brings up the United Nations I laugh, but my contribution to the Revolution is a monthly donation to Mutual Aid Myanmar and a handful of poems. I ignore PLEAS FOR HELP AS MYANMAR AWAITS HIGH-PROFILE EXECUTIONS because all I know are platitudes. I watch my country cycle out of each news cycle. MYANMAR RESISTANCE URGES WEST TO PROVIDE ARMS FOR FIGHT AGAINST JUNTA but the West won’t lift a damn finger. The only fingers I lift are to retweet news on the socials. The last time Myanmar was trending on Twitter was the day of the military coup. ROHINGYA REFUGEE BOAT SINKS OFF MYANMAR, DOZENS DEAD OR MISSING but it took a Twitter hashtag to make me feel seen. At night I dream my family are arrested, herded onto a ship beached on a gravel road. I stop my brother from boarding. My mouth is a magician’s hat. TROOPS BURN VILLAGES IN MYANMAR HEARTLAND, SEEK TO CRUSH RESISTANCE, but I’m great at excuses. Even here I opt for escape. Every year I cut my hair but can’t change my face. U.S. TO INVITE ‘NON-POLITICAL’ MYANMAR REPRESENTATIVE TO SUMMIT WITH ASEAN. I get so tired of living with myself.  

— —

RECITING RUDYARD KIPLING AT THE SHWEDAGON PAGODA 

A found poem comprising of YouTube comments under a video of British Prime Minister Boris Johnson reciting lines from “Mandalay” at Myanmar’s holiest Buddhist site.

What a legend. 

As a Burmese, I think this poem describes Burma beautifully. My great great great grandfather worked as a medicine man in Mandalay for the Burmese Royal Family. 

I don’t think anyone complaining about it has ever actually read the poem. 

The poem could equally be adopted as a progressive text as much as an imperial one. 

Why is it not appropriate? The soldier (and Kipling) clearly held Burma and the Burmese in high regard. 

Were I Boris Johnson, I would have finished the poem. Myanmar seems to be having a bit of a genocide problem since independence, and they should be reminded from time to time that British rule was at least stable. 

I love that poem. I’m an American but the British Empire was pretty badass. 

Ugh, why am I embarrassed? I’m not even English. 

The British are the reason Myanmar is screwed in the first place. Geez. 

There is nothing offensive or inappropriate in the poem; all is praise for the eastern land, the city, the temples, the geography, and the love left behind. Oh, political correctness! 

Look at the mess they’ve made of things now that we’ve gone, they should be begging the British to come back and sort things out! 

[ ] 

Come back, they’ve gone, we’ve—Oh: 

the love left behind, the geography, the temples, the city, the eastern land, 

praise the poem, the reason 

I’m not English. 

Embarrassed, the Empire I love—the stable 

British rule. Since independence, a problem: Myanmar, the poem. 

Burma clearly held Kipling: is it not appropriate? 

As imperial, I read Mandalay. 

My grandfather, this poem: Burmese, a legend.