Yew Leong Lee
This piece of cloth
In 2008, I embarked on a road trip with a Taiwanese friend. We took turns driving the car. It was hot in the Florida sun, so my friend would produce a tubular garment and thread his arm through it. Stretching from elbow to wrist, this piece of cloth shielded the lower arm from the sun's heat. I had come across the garment in China—where I lived for a year and met T. (It's also where, goes an unofficial statistic, 80% of gay men end up getting married—to women.) To see the same thing appropriated for a completely different use by another culture was amazing to me. When it was my turn to take over the wheel, my friend asked me if I wanted to wear his "sleeveguard." The dérive of recollection that makes up this poem comes out of the moment I wrapped my arm in it.
Click [here] to see the myriad manifestations of a sleeveguard.