This is a question: I write in Vietnamese (a not-yet-done poem)
(A roaming street vendor, shouting by night, mimicking the rap song of rat-killer sellers, playing in loops.)
Viet building reed-boats
Viet untying the ropes
Viet expanding the land
Viet chưng cake
Viet bánh mì
Viet fish sauce
Viet black tooth
Viet long hair
Viet get back
Viet go away
Viet paddy hat
Viet make peace
Viet one minute
Viet at least
Viet omnipresent here and there
Viet of yore Viet of now Viet whatever not yet
The Vietnamese language punctuates me: you are a Viet person.
The Vietnamese language commas me: you are a Viet person,
The Vietnamese language semicolons me: you are a Viet person;
The Vietnamese language proclaims me: you are a Viet person!
The Vietnamese language frightens me: you are only a Viet person.
The Vietnamese language ridicules me: you are also a Viet person?
The Vietnamese language champions me: no wonder you are a Viet person!!!
The Vietnamese language goes on at me: you are wholly Viet!
The Vietnamese language grumbles at me: you are solidly Viet!
The Vietnamese language feels bitter about me: You are liquefying Viet.
The Vietnamese language and me.
The Vietnamese language but me.
The Vietnamese language plural-me.
The Vietnamese language singular-me.
The Vietnamese language enshrouds me, I am soundlessly Viet.
The Vietnamese language ploughs me, I am tenaciously Viet.
This can not be what-ever. Classifying it into the Without-Species box.
I am following your goose-feather route, tracing the refrigerated lorries. Oh, the fragrance of phở noodle keeps spreading all over, far and wide
The word smells so innocent that I desperately want to archive it for a museum winter exhibition, forthcoming,