What is the "America"?

On this side of the world. It's "Mr & Mrs Smith."
The Hollywood dreams. The Statue of liberty? Or copyrighted properties.
We think we know the place. We've seen it on screen and in our dreams.
We buy the products. Drink and consume 'America'.
But we've only glimpsed the ghost and grapsed the shadow of the real.
It is embodied in every 'Tom Cruise'. And 'MIckey Mouse'.

--
On the other side of the world. They dream of the exotic beaches along the equator.
They've heard of 'Singapore'. The 'Garden city'.
the famed 'best airport'. They fly here via 'Singapore airlines'.
they see the 'Merlion' the "esplanade". 'Sentosa' and durians. ORchids and
Palm trees. Lining the streets.
They think it's too small and too hot.
They think they've seen it all.
Isn't that what our tourism board tries to sell?
Some kind of exotic Singapore identity. On every poster, in every NDP.
4 smiling races hand in hand. Orchids blooming. Economy booming. traffic pacing.
--

But this identity cannot be found. A disappointment to our leaders.
Because it is not embodied in any Gurmit Singh or PCK.
Not our 'lahs' and 'lohs'.
It is that Uncle smoking too much and drinking Kopi-O at the next table
And me frustrated, fanning myself.
It's the quiet dissatisfaction at every MRT price hike
It's me blogging at night. Here. Now. With only the humidity and crickets noises
It's that worried Aunty complaining about her son's results
It is the sticky tables at the hawker centers.
Sweat dripping despite the fan's blowing.
Cats' midnight mating calls at the void deck.
That invisible and silent sense of belong
that will forever be taken for granted.