<\/p>\n
Excerpt from <\/span><\/span>Permutations of a Self: Poems<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/strong><\/a> (Texas Review Press) by Thomas V. Nguyen<\/strong><\/a>; copyright 2019 by Thomas V. Nguyen; used with permission.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Lineage<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Here is a gravel road, Vi\u1ec7t Nam. Here are patches of tropic <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n grass that line the road, & within them leaves that rattle <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n like saltshakers. Here is your home, fences of bamboo tied together<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n in black arches, & above them roofs of damp thatch that drip<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n to the sleeping bodies below. Here are doors so blood-warm you can see handprints, the air\u2019s breath <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n a hollowed white.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n II. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Children in a swarm. Rickshaws drop like fly\u2019s eggs, <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n their drivers resting in a sweat-smoked ease. Outside, the <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n churchyard <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n sycamores howl, & inside, you hold tight onto your sister\u2019s hand, <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n pray one day to be on the other side of the Pacific, <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n in America, your body bowed like a bowstring. Overhead, <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n God throws stars like knives. Finches glisten in & out of moonlight.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n III. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n We kneel in pews together every Sunday in Houston <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n suburbia. You count dreams like feathers plucked <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n from quail\u2019s underbelly. I count fluorescent lights on the ceiling <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n & ask myself how much darker the room would be with <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n