[Tặng Nguyễn Vũ Hiệp]
Poetry is like fucking
The obscenity
Physically demanding
It demand little thought
Because, like that cliché
Love needs
No – explanation
Poetry is not confined by barrier or race
It’s a chase
Ahumm
To the death I say
Mate to death do us part
It is an art
Defining feelings
But I’ll forefathers
And mothers
They had to live with so little
They had no fucken time for art
Love you say?
There was not enough to eat
So they had to be neat
Their love was structured and confined
An obscene sprinkling of morality
An assortment of religious audacity
Lục bát haiku
Arrange marriages, they do
Fuck a virgin
Have a baby
Then we’ll see
The world is a village baby
We are yet to live in space
Where the air is scarce
Here on earth
Your voice shall echo through the air
Through the abyss of human pain and suffering
Don’t be scared
You, yes you I dare
Because when you are not young or old
You are just angry
Take it from me
Take this world from me
It is now your stage
Not mine.
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the blogger, poet, and translator, was born in 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia.
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm 
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