Stinky Tofu: A Haibun Poem

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

Dylan Simel.jpg

I really got a hankering for deep-fried stinky tofu. So I go to a stinky tofu shop.

The manager is yelling, “YES! GOOD! OK!” as loud as he can in English.

“Are you half deaf or just drunk on kaoliang?” I’m thinking.

“Can I get some kim chee with that?” in Mandarin I ask.

“YES! GOOD!”

A woman sits at my table who has just ordered. She’s across and to the left of me. Embarrassed because I’m a foreigner.

Then I’m back home in front of the TV in the blazing summer heat.

Chowing down tofu

Guzzling ice cold German beer

All Blacks at Springboks



Photo by Dylan Simel

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