inadequacy stinks

galumphing through a bookshop in my home city
i attempt to read some Taiwanese poetry

understanding every other word,
my mind screams
“TEDIOUS”
barely piecing together
a fragment of someone else soul
preaching about the transient quality of attraction
…                                                                           (i think)

feeling a phoney,
i scramble back to the “Foreign Language“ section
where I am strong again-
and think myself
“real clever”

in a place,
according to my passport,
I supposedly
belong.

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