Three Poems by Stacey Tran

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SURVIVAL #


We went into the garden to pick out a poison blocker

We saw fish mint

A lizard’s tail

A chameleon plant

Your heartleaf

My fishwort

Our bishop’s weed

We are tender stalks

A fuzzy palindrome

I’m your upside-down egg

You’re my bird’s nest soup

FAKE HAIKU


I text C—— a poem about a bird with one wing 
She replies by mailing me a piece of cloth 
Cut from the pillow she sits on to meditate 


                                 ●


My pronouns are shipyard, jellyfish & ten
I sorely miss the city
The angels miss me more 


                                 ● 


Locked in a bevy of worrisome corners 
I turn the river over to rub its belly 
Uncertain how long it will take 


                                 ● 


Mãng cầu, yêu cầu 
Our fruits often share the same desire 
Wishy heights of romance 


                                 ● 


We slip into a daily performance 
Discovering micro-utopias 
A matter of loving the wind 


                                 ● 


My pronouns are free, heard & floral 
Belly button as shiny as a dime 
Swirling on the linoleum floor 


                                 ●


In love I wake up first 
I sweep the floor 
Wherever the grass is long 


                                 ● 


Bite into a sugar rose 
What do you feel? 
Who will trim the weeping willow?

CATCHING FISH WITH TWO HANDS

(Waterbed flirtation session)


Heart skips
into rose
colored camo



Extension cord
rests in a pile



An onion asleep
is a congregation



Going home to feed
unanswerable
reservoirs



My father sharpens
his knives
to cut oranges



The mind dips
a white swan
swimming in a green latte



What came first:
a second or its hand?



I is anchored
by its little head



Jaw a compass



A number
that rhymes
with two



Hold my head
beneath the strainer



My hair will catch
laws of warmth
laws of loss



Epitome of impatience
drying on the roof



Jasmine green blossoms
quite good for a luck charm



A bear cry is the sound a bear makes
while feeding baby birds
to comfort them



Half eaten seeds
blow off into the sea



My watch tilts
toward public crying



Question marks
are the wettest
part of my body

Stacey Tran is a writer from Portland, Oregon. She is the creator of Tender Table, a storytelling series about food, family, and identity. Her writing can be found in diaCRITICS, The Fanzine, Gramma, and The Volta. Wendy’s Subway released her first chapbook, Fake Haiku (2017). She is the author of Soap for the Dogs (Gramma, 2018).

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