I dreamt last night, my mind arrested.
In my right was a scalpel,
My left held my scalp.
I wore O.R. scrubs my parents scrubbed in their laundromat.
My sister was a prostitute,
Her pimp was John Lennon.
And all my life they called me doctor, banker, lawyer.

I woke up this morning,
My throat parched and skin leprous and flaky.
A red line stretched across my head,
Bruised from cuff marks.

I am the model minority.
I am John and Jane Kim,
I am the model minority.
I am the child of Jehovah,
I am the model minority.
I am the minor in minority,
The opposite of major,
I am the model minority.
I am the slave of Milton S. Eisenhower,
The president of Johns Hopkins University,
The president of War Relocation Authority,
The gestapo of Japanese internment camps,
I am the model minority.

I thirst for the River of Life.
Not the for the salted seas,
Nor for the salted seasoned peas,
Nor for the seas teeming with death.
Make some room brother,
As my mind begins to stretch.
And make way for the model minority.