Cradle meSuffocating green godSeep into my fleshAnd interlock my fingers with your vinesDrape over my headThe blanket you designedWeave your threads through my lashesHold, Breath. Pass, Time. Strangle meHomogeneous forest creeperFrom crown to toeMix my blood with your pulpTake my veinsAnd wring them outDrain my bodyDrink the juiceInfest…
it’s easy to be envious of silkworms they never live half-starved gluttoned from birth on mulberry and chlorophyll potential turning swollen graced with tenderness for existing their distended forms gorgeous or maybe it is their becoming that is gorgeous the worm is only cocooning what has been engineered…
When I falter even just a little I do nothing but belittle myself; ashamed of my flaws my hands become claws that I rake down my face at the thought of being last place. I think about what happened beforehand, how my father left his homeland. My parents…
The Fall of Saigon took place 50 years ago on April 30, 1975. An illustration by Nancy My Tran depicts a Vietnamese altar honoring a lost loved one. A poem by Julianne Le reflects upon the effects of imperialism and war.