F.O.B

by sebastian snow

cover photo by caroline xia

for my grandmother

i say your name 

and it feels like

i’m robbing you

you grew up in the fields, with your hands always

a part of your heart

you wouldn’t tell us where you lived

when we went to vietnam so we 

followed around families 

that could’ve been yours

you grew up with a man 

who made fun of your accent

you had four children 

before you knew

what it meant

to bring children

into your world

as fast as you left it

with the ship running through you

did you care if you ever found shore?

you grew up and saved my mom’s life

and everyone else

who couldn’t save yours

you did everything you could

to get out

and what did it cost?

a few bones

and a thousand stories

you can never tell 

your grandchildren

your life

some testament

nothing we fight for

will ever be worth it

(Statement: This is about my Grandmother, Chim Nguyen, who evacuated Vietnam with my mom and her siblings in 1975. She’s still alive, but she’s been through a lot. Due to her severe trauma and language barriers, it’s always been hard for me to have a relationship with her. She lost family in the war, and lost a lot of years to it. I think it’s really important to talk about the interpersonal effects of American Imperialism and generational trauma that carry on to this day.)