AMERICAN SONNET FOR MY MOTHER’S WHITNEY HOUSTON KARAOKE

after COMMON

Photo by Jay Nlper on Unsplash

From how poor we was, to euphoria

There was always time for karaoke

& fortune cookies at old Chinese spots

in the nineties. Whispers of Selena

dripping from two Peavey speakers’ mouths—

my love for fried rice, freshly ignited

near sections furthest away from the bar.

My mother wasn’t much of a drinker—

she wanted to be a pure examp…