top of page
Trong Le
Poetry, The Willow Withe by Tô Lį»ch River
Dedicated to the memory of Jeremy Hooker
“A single cloud in the northwest”—
The Milky Way casts a dusty net
on the dark, dirty river,
a banyan grove obscures
the quarter moon,
the northeast monsoon barely ripples
the deep, dead ditch,
while the wild willow withe
wavers,
chatter of magpies dies away
at our approach, minnows
scatter at our step—
is this not so?
By the water, the white willow withe
withers—the monsoon wind
unwinds: returning moonlight shines
just over tips of desert grass.
Poetry, Hotel Peculiar I
Previously published by Dream Boy Book Club
It was 12:50 in Boston the Thursday
after they’d released the fireworks
too early, and we went to Hongkong
Eatery and eagerly forking into the
Crispy Fried Whole Exploded Fish
you said no, then yes when I asked
have you ever grilled an armadillo, will ya
come see me in Hanoi, because
there
in Hanoi I had a house, O but you could call
and I’d hurry over. Have you eaten
Husband And Wife Lung Pieces,
the hail began to hit us on the head
hard so we took an umbrella from
MUJI and from UNIQLO we took
XL Bangladeshi WindProof Parkas
with pockets big enough to fit Kitchen
by Banana Yoshimoto, Tomoe River
Paper Hobonichi Techos, Tomitaro
Makino, Krishna Monsoon Sky
Waterproof Rainwater Ink,
things
we felt entitled to inalienably, my daddy
once had me swallow Live Monkey
Brains, and my neighbor beat the shit
out of me when he caught me pissing
on his kitchen towels and on my goose eggs
bear bile later lay, smelling like
shit, my neighbor really beat the BRAINS
out of me! Then on
to CHUG CHA:
two Matcha Lattes with Vegan
Pork Pearls, the sun disorienting,
I have eaten Triple Fertilized
Siamese Twin Duck Eggs, have ya
ever pulled a preemie from the splayed
placenta of a pregnant pig en papillote, who
do you think the placenta belonged to
anyway, you said perhaps Sharon
Olds would know, she wrote about
it.
Poetry, Khánh
Khánh at the gate of Äį»ng Phú elementary sleep
in the back of the class sleep
on a wooden bench sleep
from somewhere else entirely sleep
Khánh at recess sleep
against the sandbox racket sleep
under the fish egg tree smoking sleep
out the gate of Äį»ng Phú elementary sleep
Khánh at lunchtime sleep
past the eucalypti fiery sleep
against the sweaty noony nappy hour sleep
somewhere else entirely sleep
Khánh at Miss Yįŗæn’s afterschool math class sleep
beside some doctor’s notes feverish sleep
through the hibiscus bushes sleep
in the back of the class always sleep
Khánh at the dolphin circle park sleep
along the interlocking terrazzo sidewalk sleep
abreast the ice cream refrigerator tricycle sleep
in the middle of lotus dance recital sleep
under the phoenix tree blazing bleeding sleep
on a lava bench sleep
Khánh at Asem Link Lý ThĘ°į»ng Kiį»t sleep
in Filipina English lectures sleep
among the ten o’clock flowers rat-a-tat sleep
on two foam four-strap sandaled feet sleep
Khánh at the school opening ceremony sleep
in the middle of our national anthem sleep
in Äį»ng Phú elementary uniform blue and black sleep
on Monday sleep
on summer vacation sleep
Khánh by the shirtless sand sun-blasted cancerous sleep
by the Mausoleum Avuncular blinding glass sleep
by the children’s cultural center coaster class sleep
by the flag flying fluttering flaming flagellating sleep
by the infertile pride of India unfeeling sulfurous sleep
by the noontime Äį»ng Phú elementary desolate sleep
by the dolphin park cataract punishing sleep
by the teachers’ lounge terrible statue worship sleep
by the sweet tamarind tree hurling phoenix leaves sleep
by the sleeping smoldering funhouse forever forever sleep sleep
Khánh.
Bio: Lê Äį»©c Trį»ng (b. Vietnam) is a Physics PhD student at Georgia Tech. His poetry has been published by Verses from the Underground, Sardine Can Collective, Sextet Lit, and others. Some of his poems are on display at Six Foot Gallery in Glasgow from March 31 to April 21.
bottom of page