Jennifer Kwon Dobbs, inquiring into a poetics emerging from the adopted diasporic condition, guest-curates a portfolio of poems for The Line Break.
July 5, 2013
When Home Is Not Enough
Shrouded in rumor, your secrets were unraveling, and the swelling underneath your blouse was no longer a question of if but when. Away you were sent to lie in a bed of lice and dried shrimp in a village hostile to yet another bastard who will end up begging for forgiveness. But, here I am, back from the deep well they tried to drown me in. To disarm the landmines buried in your field of vision. To shield you from the bullets still hanging in the sky. I’ve mastered the silence of your existence, but now I shout your name in this dark cave. And, if you never answer me? Have you moved onto another village, another family? What if it’s true when they say that mosquitoes only return to the swarm in the form of a warm memory, however indecipherable?
Kevin Minh Allen Kevin Minh Allen was born Nguy?n ??c Minh on December 5, 1973 near Sài Gòn, Vietnam to a Vietnamese mother and American father who remain unknown to him. He was adopted by a couple from Rochester, NY and grew up in Webster, NY with his two younger sisters. In 2000, he moved to Seattle, WA to pursue a life less ordinary. Kevin is a freelance writer who has had his poetry published in numerous print and online publications such as Eye To The Telescope, Meniscus Magazine, AsianAmericanPoetry.com, and Chrysanthemum. He finished his first poetry chapbook manuscript tentatively titled The Wind Above The Coast.