the pleasurable experience fraught with danger
while history is sleepy in complacency
Tag: phannhienhao
My recollections
returned each night
vivid, sharp
pierced the top of my head
before repeatedly dying in dreams
like the wind, like an insidious resentment
of spirits buried together
I’m exhausted from the silence
It’s unforgiving; it’s like ants,
patiently carries each red blood cells from my body.
I live in a house without a door.
On their back, each visitor lugs their door.
In place, before we sit and talk, then,
takes the door with them when they leave.
My privacy is dependant upon
the visits of these people.
By Phan Nhiên Hạo, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm
***
A person riding a bike stopped, ask.
“Is there anything I can do for you two?”
The woman asked for a leaf;
the man wanted sildenafil.
Instead, they smiled and waved.
