by Blue Nguyen
Blue Nguyen (they/he) is a Vietnamese non-binary lesbian poet and community organizer based out of Boston, MA. They have been nominated for Best of the Net Anthology and Best New Poets Anthology. They are the author of “is the sun lonely too?” zine. Their poetry can be found at The Mantle Poetry, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Protean Magazine, Prolit Magazine, DEAR Poetry Journal, and more. You can find them on Instagram: @blue.ngu and on Twitter: @queerqhost.
apology disguised as 140 character tweets
in this home, we leave our grief
at the door dad’s dying
while the birds fly home
and i am stuck here.
the rain in hell is cold and heavy,
it reminds me of funerals
and july, always consuming
something, always quiet,
(somewhere a bird is stuck).
god laughs this time:
a knife cuts an apple,
mom made dumplings,
CVS still calls about my dead father,
it wasn’t supposed to rain this much.
it’s winter, again, somewhere
a bird is stuck.
why didn’t you tell me you were—
sitting on the telephone wire. it’s
winter again, the birds flew home
late this year, my mom says we share
the same face and the
same grief. today:
CVS called about my dead
father’s prescriptions, i am late
to the party & i can only draw
birdsong & words i hate.
i am a bird but i am stuck here.
but aren’t you tired of this?