Poetry by Grace Huynh
you look around
seeing the people you love
and suddenly,
you feel like you know nothing at all.
you want to hear them speak
about everything they know
you want to wash the cigarette smell from your hair with their words
you want to rinse your hands with their research
hoping that their knowledge on
art, poetry, palestine
and the berlin club scene
will somehow find its way
through your ears
into your brain
and out your fingertips
to build a monument
with everything you know
from times fueled by arak and fifa
and late night drives through abdoun
break-ins to your apartment from your balcony
and neighbors throwing rocks at you from their roof
or when you had to wake her up for university
and how you felt when they had to leave
but maybe i don’t need to build them a monument
because my tribute to them is me.
Grace Huynh is a writer originally from Orange County, California. She gathers inspiration from California, the Middle East and her heritage roots in Vietnam. Her poetry was exhibited through a one-month residency at the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts. Contact her at [email protected] or on Instagram @homeherewriting.
