ode to definitions by Chen Chen

i love definitions that are forever questions due to my never remembering them

ode to definitions

by Chen Chen

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   froth would be a great name for a band 
& probably is. during the week of scheduled merry, mass mirth, 

i learned about a band people younger than myself enjoy 
     			                            & the mirth did burst, 
                                                        the merry positively frothed 
    when i watched their latest music video. 
         how much they danced
         just with their hands! the music video 
                                                      as an art form—revived! 

during the supposedly mirth-merriest 
time of year, i was not ready to shed my supposings, my position of not 
         humbug exactly, 
           but kinda bah, yes. 
                                            then, this most kissable song 
                   about outer space (they danced 
                   in their spacesuits!). then, i looked up 

                                  the definition of “froth”: a mass of small 
                                         bubbles caused by agitation, fermentation, or 
                                         some other thing, & otherwise 
                                                              known as foam. to froth 

                                         is to cause or contain this mass of small 
                              bubbles otherwise known as foam & usually overflowing 
                                                                   from a can of soda, beer, or 
                                                                   soul. to foam is to be overly effusive 
about a band people younger than yourself enjoy. 

                                                                           i love definitions. 
              they don’t box me in 
                       except for all the time i’ve lived 

                       in the united states of america since the age of 4. 
                       (since i was 4, not since the united states of america was 4.) 

one of my brothers is turning 28 next month 
            & on the xmas family video call i said, wow. 
                                                                              wow 
                are we all getting old. & he said, yeah, that’s how time works. 

& i was both chapfallen & crestfallen, the definition for both 
       being the other. i couldn’t understand why 
       he had to be so factual. i love definitions 
but hate facts. 
                i love definitions that are forever questions 

                          due to my never remembering them, 
                                      my always looking them up 
                                 or in the middle of wondering about. 
                this would also describe 
                my relationship with the spelling of “entrepreneurial.” 
    entrepreneurially speaking, holidays & 

                       most days, i am irritated. 
      my other brother turns 27 in the spring. he would be great 
      in a band, but would never 
      do that, he’s far too busy pursuing his other creative talents 
           to financial success & deep fulfillment. 
i’m proud of him, though also 
                         irritated, now that he has 
                 barely a thing to justify to our parents, 
                 maybe just his haircut. 
                                                               i’m proud of the life i’ve made 

out of words & fairly adventurous haircuts, 
            yet i’m irritated with myself 
                                                every day. i’m 
            an artist, meaning a massively small self-esteem & a love for 
                 everything minutely vast. froth, the artist formerly known 

                 as foam!—i love stuff like that. i cherish 
                                   how my boyfriend, 

        a bit older than me, said he’s closest to the tall & quiet 
                                                          one in the band, though 
                                                          even taller & quieter, 
               & i said, definitely 
               taller, but quieter (??), you’re never quiet, 
               & he said, 

                                   fuck you, i am 8 foot 4 & have never spoken a word. 
my favorite definition of mirth, 
      which happens to be the main one, is gladness or gaiety 
      as shown by or accompanied with laughter. 

                                                                                            gaiety! 
                  can you guess why i love that definition? yes, i am 
                                 queer as in fuck you, but i am also gay 
                                 as in i don’t know 
                  how to live in this world or why i should 

& isn’t that fun. 
little bubbles full of feeling.

                        the holidays—do you ever wish there were more & better
                        gay holiday movies? do you ever watch a gay movie
                                                                  because you are gay 
                 & looking for yourself, then looking for other gays, 
then looking for yourself, again?

         do you ever watch a gay movie & find yourself 
              happy, even 
              mirthful, frothing with 
         yay, gaiety? only for the ending 

                              to be um, utterly ruinous? 

          do you ever watch yourself 
               being gay as in person turning 
35 & the guinness world record holder

                for most consecutive nights spent tearful by a scented candle? 
                i’m not answering that, but thank you for asking.