Poetry

convinced boys as a teen/to smuggle her banned books,/struck fear in their lovestruck hearts/as she passed on her motorbike

I would not be blamed for the illness in another person's heart. 

I wonder if the land remembers the smell of bomb debris.

I left my country, carrying two things:/a passport printed with my Vietnamese name,/a black and white picture of my parents taken before I was born.

The collection’s purpose—and indeed, the presence of Nguyen’s mother makes this collection feel more purpose-driven than preceding volumes, as the multitudinous perspectives of each poem accumulate into a wondrous sprawl—is to nourish the reader with tales of Diệp’s daring as a young woman and flying motorcycle artist before having left Vietnam.

Which Asian woman do you/blame for your choices now?