later that night. [whispering] whoa! three gorgeous geisha girls come on in. okay. let's start the party. [music] whoa! yeah. hey! [music] [laughter] [singing] in the next room, the samurai was trying write a

letter. [music playing in background],iha chi. iha chi! the samurai is calling me. i wonder what is wrong. did you call me? yes,iha chi! i'm sorry. next door being noisy. sorry i will go and tell them to be quiet. very, very sorry.

[loud party noises] come on in. excuse me. sorry. can you keep the noise down please? be a little bit quieter. huh? be quiet. look at this. three young men on holiday. three beautiful geishas and all this expensive saki we ordered from you and you tell us to be quiet. actually we don't mind but someone next door complained. someone complained? about us? tell them to come here and complain to our faces. no. no. wait! i understand. they're just jealous. we're here having a good time

and they're all alone, right? that's it. they're just jealous. maybe so but actually it's not just an ordinary person that complains. what do you mean not an ordinary person? someone with three heads, six legs? a ghost? very funny, sir, but actually it's a samurai. samurai? next door? why didn't you tell us. we don't like samurais? sometimes they just kill people by mistakes. sorry about that. samurai? okay. okay. we understand and we'll be quiet. okay. ladies sorry. parties over. see you next time. sorry. we will go to bed now.

shall i bring out the futons. yes but don't put them in a row. put the heads together so we can talk in bed. is it okay for us to talk in bed. that's no problem talk as much as you like. okay. thank you. samurai next door told us to shut up. that's okay. i don't mind. these things happen when you travel. any way it's a good story to tell our friends back home. i remember that night when the samurai told us to shut up. [laughing] by the way did you see the sumo tournament? the grand finals. no. i missed it. >> you missed a great fight!

what happened? dynasty made a great move - actually, - -su mo. okay. i take your word. wait. wait. wait. if you're doing, sumo you need a judge. [noises]ow! h iiiha chi.

samurai is calling me. what's wrong now. did you call me? yes. oh, no, next door being noisy again. so, sorry, i'll go and tell them to be quiet. sorry, sorry. excuse me. [ noises] hey! come and join us. sorry but can you be quiet please, samurai. samurai? samurai? sorry we forgot. sorry. samurai. okay. we'll be quiet.

unbelievable. that was your fault. you were the one that started talking about, sum. that was you making all the noise. shhhhhhh be quiet. let's change the subject. what shall we talk about now. we talked about sports. the weather. no. i know. let's talk about [whistles] women, love, romance, passion. look at us. we're not popular with the ladies. we haven't got any stories. actually we've got no experience. wait! i've got a story. i had an experience.

you? yeah. actually i've never told you this before but in my younger days i used to work in a kimono shop. you did? yes. and 8 years ago i went to the house of the samurai to sell kimonos and the samurais name was,uto,gotomosh. but when i arrived only the samurais wife was home. sam ris wife? i bet she was gorgeous! oh, yes, she was very sexy, beautiful lady and she invited me into the back room and served me sak

. go on! go on! well i stayed there all afternoon. talking and drinking saki and suddenly she looked at me and said, mr. kimono man, come closer. closer. and she looked me right in the eyes and said, i think i'm falling in love with you. i am! i love you. i want you. i need you. then she started taking off her kimono. she started to take off her - what happened next! calm down. i can't. i'm just so jealous. wow you must have had a

wonderful night together. you think so? yeah. actually, no. no. just because right as i was kissing her. samurais brother suddenly came home. diver suddenly came home. what happened? well, when he saw us he was so angry and he puld out his sword and was going to kill me. oh! how exciting. it was not exciting. what happens. as he ran towards me, he slipped on the shiney floor and dropped his sword. so, i picked it up and i cut him down!

you killed? that's right. at that point the wife took out 100 yellow gold coins and said, come on, let's run away together. now is our chance, let's go, let's go. and did you? no. i cut her down from behind. you killed the samurais wife? my god! why did you do such a terrible thing. because then there's no proof. no proof. ah, right. so, you killed two people and got all the gold and nobody knows about it and your still a free man. your really smart. your a real lady killer! get it? lady killer.

your a playboy! [singing]hia chi! hia chi! [yawns] oh, samurai is calling again. i wonder what is wrong. oh, i'll never get any sleep tonight. samurai did you call me? yes,iha chi, come in. listen? oh, no. next door being noisy again. i'll go tell them to be quiet. not this time. hia chi let me introduce myself.

my name is goto motimoshi and 8 years ago my wife and brother will were killed and i've been searching since for the man who did it. fortunately, i found him. congratulations! where? here. here? the man next door and i'm going to kill him. tell him to come here now. go tell him to come here now. [crying] excuse me. [singing] come on in and listen to this story! is it the story about gatomoshi.

how do you know. because the samurai next door is him. he's going to kill you. kill me? no. listen, it wasn't me. it was somebody else. i just hear that story. i'm sorry. last month and i thought that's good story but actually it wasn't me. it was another man. it wasn't you? oh, no. someone else. go tell samurai, please! okay. i'll try but, i don't know if he'll listen. he's very, very angry. please! please!

samurai - where is he? bring him to me! wait. let me explain. he said actually it wasn't him. it was somebody else and he just told the story. i'm sorry. it wasn't him. it was another man. another man? i don't think so. he did it and i'm going to kill him! bring him here now. please! please! don't kill him here in this hotel if you kill him here, everybody will think it's a dangerous place and no one will stay here and it will be the end of my business. please don't kill him here. okay. i understand your situation. all right. then i will fight him tomorrow morning at the temple. is that okay? thank you so much.

thank you! but if he tries to escape tonight i will kill all of them and you too! me too? why me too? excuse me. iha chi is everything okay. no. i told him what you said but he didn't believe me. he's going to kill you. kill me? here? now? no. he said he will fight you tomorrow morning at the temple. if you try to escape tonight he'll kill you and your friends and me too! friends? we're not his friends!

we just met him. we hardly no each other. the man was so panic stricken and afraid that they couldn't sleep all night. they just sat in total silence. it was a very quiet night. the next morning,hia chi, hia chi! oh, this is a voice i will never ever forget. samurai, good morning. oh, good morningiha chi come on. i had a very good sleep last night.

very good. wonderful. yes, so i'd like to pay my bill. keep the change. thank you. thank you. and now, i'm leaving. leaving? what about the fight at the temple? huh? oh, that! no,iha chi that was just a lie. what? a lie? why would you tell such a lie. because,iha chi i just wanted a quiet night! [applause] [musi

>> in conjunction with an an

exhi bigz we had ann an exhi bigz we had ann anan tholl have the same title. it's my pleasure to introduce some of the writers from this book. i will give you an introduction of each of them as i introduce them for their speaking turn. first up we have debbie yee. debbie yee is an attorney and poet and supporter and organizer of the nonprofit asian american arts community. she's received her undergraduate and law degrees from uc berkeley and bolt. born and raised in sacramento, california. she continues to call northern california her home. and now lives in san francisco. so, with that i'd like to

introduce debbie yee as our first speaker. >> this is called jasper john's wagon. >> i have an idea of how the fifth star was killed dear empire not by gunfire at close range, not in the study with the pen knife, not by the umbrella, crushed by the revolving door not jostled or hemorrhaged the narrow drain. we caught the tar and the bullet we came to the body encostic casement of skin rig motor us framed the opened mouths scream. wail for your mother wrap our sons in silken ribbons in a galaxy. the cause has been perp traited. we are adrift on a baron sea. the fleet diminishes me. who shouts for us now, dear

empire? this next one is a postcard for a reason that i kept of harold's club in reno, nevada. i don't know if it exists it's a really old postcard. harold's club made we think of harold and the purple crayon. harold's club. who would figure let loose the boy with the purple crayon. let him conkokt the loses slots in women. let loose his imagination. ended as high as sea gulls or the reverse w's topped with bold topped centers the rudeaments of the buzzum and life itself. >> pen and ink. in the way we demonstrate speech by quotation marks the ill

administrator kapt urs speed by 2 lines of the pen much the trotting horse quoted at the knees all 4 and the lady side saddled atop him frozen in place by crossed hatched marks. courseut to indicate the petticoat aroused into activity by the muscular steed. unintended garden. whether o(inaudible) the propery line, i promise not to water the spring flower and plants that remain as brown stubbel on the chins of my train. take care of dry foilage. i let the japanese maybel swat the afi ds on it's own. purple spotted brush. 2 calla lillies take root.

birds return listening to lost meats all day until dusk beckons them to come to the nest and try again in the morning. this next poem is indian an ina ontholingly. on telegraph avenue it's no longer in existence, the sadness of this. berkeley, late fall. um -- this is from forest hamer who is a bay area poet who wrote berkeley late spring. this is berkeley late fall. i have been browsing the peet ree section had come to lose the unconcern but persistant rain that followed me in as a trail of damp shoe prints and dripping conscientious hacompanied to a

solitude. i ran my right index if anything are across each spine flesh going along volume and groove. imagine the book seller anding by to fold and flatten we down to on an oblong shape and reshelf me into an americay sandwich between the t's and v's stacked up along the unexpected and unknown. i notice that the pe ems i imagine crowding around you were the unquieted the unrequited. distant citizens far from the disposition of the safety of s's the determinant d's and resultant r's where the poems are make believe. unlike the bumpy organic one i find myself wandering into. this one is about the moon.

mabel and maureen. the moon regrets it's father's avd vise, take the night shift. [laughter]. each evening he dressed his forehead in linseed oil and drying powerhouse the expansion of reflection. it's difficult to get shut eye the hours before how the sunshines and how dollar is no curtain wide enough to screen it's rays. he takes out his bag lunching mouthfuls of apple juice and pb and j. on his watchdog garts. diners are darkened, empty much we are not open for you, moon they seem to say. and so said the cart vendors the waitresses like mabel and maureen. how mabel and lauereen stroll indeed full skirted prichled

merrily the moon lit evening arms in other men's arms. this next one is, the next 2, which are my last 2 are something about passing. among us. in the sunken spring as in winter and fall and every season that our teak of spring with souro and jubulation are fragile hearts are as children grabbing drink tumblers spilld and milky. teach finger tips reaches for the stars and night clouds hopeful that we might give respite to our orbegans our earth bound regrets. we ask or wonder in the moments when we catch ourselves breathing where do the beloved go. in the warm cham bers of the living. we imagine how they might wallow

away our earthly number of days playing gin rummy with another grand mother. ladies of historical footnotes. telescope the heavens on capurncus's shirt tales. wounds and so spots pounding out quiet inner drum beats while we traverse the gravity boots. warmed bite disassistant c.j. hunt inner spaces is dusted with enchantments of what love has left us. this is tile. consider the corn's ear a tiling of pale yellow pillows, tiny. or hexagonal pearls addressed on

the bathroom floor. i flip through a 12 month calendar each tile numbered, each 30, each sheet of a dozen passing, passing. thank you. [applause] >> our next speaker is nancy hong. nancy is an artist, writer, children's book ill administrator, curator and art's administrator. devoted her artistic career to the nonprofit art's sector creatingim mags for political, social and community events and causes her writing has been published in severalan tholologies. with that i introduce nancy hong. >> thank you for coming this is called bread and soup. beneath the bear bulb we gather