Sullen she sits 
in her shimmering fabric
scowling at her adoptive nation.
Listlessly scrolling 
for soap-opera news 
in her language.
Half-hidden behind the register
where she sells something every few hours 
to someone from her country
purchasing those weird snacks:
dried minnows with mango,
fish with curried betel-nut,
tamarind-flavored dried shrimp . . .

Hey lady, you look funny 
with that white paste 
smeared all over your face.
You look like a ghost.
Did Buddha make you put it on?

Hey lady, don't you know how to smile 
and serve the public?
Maybe you should learn English.

Why did you come here, anyway?