So often in his poetry, Ocean Vuong follows a stanza of cloudy (yet evocative) metaphor with a line so sharp with clarity that it makes me gasp out loud.
Sometimes, I‘m not sure my mind fully understands what he‘s saying, but it feels like my heart does.
I don‘t normally read poetry but Ocean Vuong makes it easy to enjoy. Thought provoking and just as good as seeing him in person a few weeks/months ago (what even is time anyway?).
His poems range from during the war in Vietnam to stories about his father. I‘m so glad I have his newest work (Time is a Mother) at home ready to read when I get back.