Lubbock, Texas
Between 1985-1987, he writes sincerely, gratefully
to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees,
the International Red Cross Central Tracing Agency,
Thai National Police, U.S. Department of State, and more,
to no real end, though each letter surpasses the last.
First he writes them in long hand, in Vietnamese,
then I think someone helps revise, translate, and type:
Don’t say the boat was stopped or encircled,
say the boat was surrounded by the Thai pirates;
it’s true they took away with them eight girls in our boat,
but abducted captures the situation better; say…—
“The Reading Room will be closing in 15 minutes.”
I sit and stare at the rust print left by a paperclip
coiling into the dead end of a labyrinth.
Copyright © 2017 by Hai-Dang Phan. Used by permission of the author.
Keeping (and Telling) the Past 