works by william pham, 2005-present

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Diaspora in Miniature

Did you see last night's episode of "Heroes?"
Did you sit down with your family nu
clearly sitting down on a leather couch?
We only had one narrow hour
To expel, expulse, extricate our voices
From the entanglement of diaspora;
We scattered ourselves like dust throughout
The house in which we made our little homes,
Ethnic enclaves wrapped in ethnic enclave.

I live in Little Second Son, which is
A pretty nice neighborhood, kind of like
San Jose, Westminster, or Palo Alto.
It's a short walk away from Daughtertown,
But Little First Son is miles away,
And I have no idea how to get to
Mother or Father; I don't even speak
The language that they speak inside their homes.
We scattered ourselves like dust throughout

The house in which we made our little homes.
We yell at each other and by the time
Our voices reach each other's open ears,
They have disintegrated like the dust
We left behind, a trail of voiceless tears.

copyright (c) 2006 by william pham