Two Poems by Susan Nguyen


Fresh Off the Boeing

Hello new strange love.
Today you are well, no?
Today I am 28 years.
I am 1.6 in meters.
I am sad sleep.
Today I am meeting hard times
learning your handsome country,
your loud speech.
Yes, today I am hair
short black, eyes brown,
face square.
I am good.
I am open mind.
You are a strange visage.
When first I arrived
you told me I could not
shoot effigies or
stay lost in translation.
I could not return home.
But I am difficult love–
today, a small stutter.




1. Citizen of the United States of America
2. American English


1. Of or relating to the United States of America and its people
2. Of or relating to Fourth of July fireworks, four-wheel drive, confederate flags waving red-white-blue, cornfields
3. Of or relating to big sky, route 66, vibrant land carved out by those yoked to it
4. Of or relating to K-12 Pledge of Allegiance, cotton candy American Dream, lemonade stands under a blazing white sun


About the Author:

Susan Nguyen hails from Virginia, but currently lives in the desert where she is hard at work on her MFA in poetry at Arizona State University. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in PANK, diode, Boxcar Poetry Review, and others. She is the recipient of two fellowships from the Virginia G. Piper Center for Creative Writing and is a poetry editor for Hayden’s Ferry Review.