At Yee Shun Milk Company in Macau, Where They Only Serve Two Things:
Hot and Cold Steamed Milk Pudding

So what
that we spent an hour
searching for this place
tucked along Avenida de Almeida Ribiero,
steam steeping the open room,
instead of bumming the hours
away on Hac Sa Beach.

So what
that nearly every seat
was occupied with patrons
composing music from the soft
plink of spoons chiming porcelain
and dishing about the glut
of tourists who had just waltzed in.

So what
that my hands swallowed
the fragile cup like a bouncer at a tea party
or how the red beans floating
on top resembled atomic pintos
slathered thick in cherry
red lip gloss, unsettling
to my American eyes.

So what
that it had the consistency
of warmed-over yogurt
lounging in a plastic tub
for some cheap hotel’s continental breakfast
or that you didn’t care
much for its lean sweetness.

I was
finally living
off of crumpled plane
tickets and battered
suitcases and the collected
ink of customs stamps
in the back pages
of my passport.

I had
gone up to the kid
I once was (narrow and confined)
and unbolted the door wide
to the seductive side streets
and delicious hidden corners and
dicey food stalls
of the world.

And besides–
Bourdain
recommended this place.
By God,
I’d slurp up
every
bit

By Stephen Briseño

Biography:

Stephen Briseño’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Memoir Mixtapes, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, 8 Poems, formercactus, Bone & Ink Press, and Rabid Oak. He lives in San Antonio with his wife and daughter, teaches middle school English, and drinks far too much coffee. Follow him on Twitter: @stephen_briseno