Poetry

My favorite Vietnamese word is “thương,” which is actually the very word that I incorporated in 'queer lost love'... “Thương” is like a love that can be romantic but more familial, and connotes a deeper, more genuine connection that’s emanating from the feeler. “Thương” is innocent, pure, raw, wholesome, honest love. But because it’s often used in a familial context, the romantic appeal of its use gets overshadowed and lost.
Paul Bonnell reviews Phuong T. Vuong's The House I Inherit. In “What my father gives me,” Vuong writes: my father who gives me / salted lemons / makes offerings / when my silence seems / too prickly for much else / my father so good / at surviving / even his preserved lemons / stay afloat in salt water
One morning she wakes up / She wants to eat all the things in the world / Things like cars, trains / clothes, shoes, toilet paper /
The blind man draws circles and traces charms / Bloodline cursed over three generations: / A mother burns her baby with fire and water / To prove the newborn is not his father’s future assassin.
In January 2019, The Djerassi Resident Artists Program, in partnership with the Diasporic Vietnamese Artists Network (DVAN), hosted 12 women and gender-nonconforming writers of the Vietnamese diaspora, to take part in a hybrid literary/art collective project, She Who Has No Master(s). On the last morning, Vi Khi Nao asked each writer to answer a different question for this collection of one-line interviews.
In this excerpt of digital magazine, this is for mẹ, Danny Thien Le revels and reflects in the power of one word to heal, create home, kindle nostalgia and transcend time… Do you remember / the first time you / taught me your name / … / Was I finally a refuge / for the refugee […]