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When We Were Young
I was a month older. We both had
Chinese last names. She was also
Khmer, Thai & Vietnamese: a mix
of enemies. Thailand always
stealing temples along the border.
She identified as Khmer because
they needed her the most.
We were opposites, like our two
eventual cats. I was the aloof one,
lithe & nervous in my Audrey
Hepburn sunglasses. She was
the teasing one, smoking cloves
slouched in her brother’s frayed
skater clothes, seemingly
carefree. After high school, we lived
in New York City, met every
Gen X Khmer person in the New England
& Tri-State Area. I shredded papaya,
marveled at ahmok. Dancing
at banquets, I flared my fingers
like gladiolas opening. Like our elders,
our leisure included free Atlantic City
hotel rooms & touring the buffets. She’d blow
through a snapped snow crab leg
& split it cleanly, giving me a perfect
piece of meat. Spoiled, she called me
against the casino chimes. Her mother called
me oun—daughter. Growing up, she didn’t
know which stories about Cambodia
were true. She could sweet talk
anybody, especially a security guard.
Four generations deep in America,
I was more afraid. Chinese waiters
were confused when she spoke
instead of me. I was the light-skinned
tall girl with a blank face, the one who
paid the bill & didn’t suck the bones clean.
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Shelley Wong is the author of As She Appears (2022), longlisted for the National Book Award and winner of a Lambda Literary Award. She lives in San Francisco.
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well done
Posted by: lally | January 19, 2025 at 11:06 AM
An eye-opening, original narrative full of precise observation, holding the reader from start to finish. I especially love how it ends in such a beautiful unexpected rush of imagery. It's wonderful that we get to see this complex world through Shelly Wong's eyes, with such an intriguing mix of domestic and international realms. Nice pick Terence!
Posted by: Don Berger | January 19, 2025 at 11:40 AM
I really like this poem a lot. The use of the couplets form (and single last line) gives it a sparseness, although the details here are so vivid and powerful. I like the bit of Asian history ("a mix of enemies"). Each piece of new information the reader gets sounds authentic/genuine. Some very well-crafted storytelling here, Shelley; I enjoyed reading this very much and would love to check out more of your work.
Posted by: Cindy Hochman | January 19, 2025 at 11:50 AM
Don: thanks for commenting.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 19, 2025 at 12:13 PM
The bond between women is so delicate, like breaking a crab claw, that specific.Thank God for the poets who document this is a world of clutter.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | January 19, 2025 at 12:21 PM
oops IN a world of clutter
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | January 19, 2025 at 12:22 PM
In one of the gifts of poetry, in a relatively short space, a beautiful and deep friendship unfolds…I relate to this poem on a more personal level, in that my friend, Mary and I were 4 and 5 when we met and were friends for over 60 years…she died suddenly in a fire on September 6, 2024..though different in so many ways, our friendship and love transcended those boundaries …another keeper! Thank you Terence and Shelley!
Posted by: Sr. Leslie | January 19, 2025 at 01:16 PM
A quiet chill went through me as I read the last lines. A shiver. The way true poetry gets under ones skin unexpectedly.
Perfect painting too.
Posted by: Maureen Owen | January 19, 2025 at 01:43 PM
The poem is so paradoxically clear. I love that we “get it” and then realize, “Hey, this is wondrously complex. And I shake my head wondering how any of us can get along. Thank you for undermining my assurance and bringing me back where I belong.
Posted by: Jack Ridl | January 19, 2025 at 01:50 PM
I love the friendship and affection between the two women . One is aloof and the other outgoing and playful. To have a friend for over forty years is an amazing gift. This poem expresses this so clearly. The artwork is beautiful.
Posted by: Eileen Reich | January 19, 2025 at 01:58 PM
Thanks, Leslie, for your always meaningful comments.
Posted by: Terence Winch | January 19, 2025 at 02:26 PM
Thank you all for engaging with my work! This poem was originally published in Hanging Loose journal and is an outtake from my debut book As She Appears, which meditates in the aftermath of a queer relationship between two Asian American women. I wish I had kept this poem in and feel affirmed by your generous comments.
Posted by: Shelley W | January 19, 2025 at 04:39 PM
Oh my God! I love this poem! I want to frame it and put it above my desk. Thank you for posting it, Terrence! And thank you for writing it, Shelley! I look forward to reading your book.
Posted by: Nin Andrews | January 19, 2025 at 05:39 PM
Opens my eyes and warms my heart.
Posted by: Clarinda | January 19, 2025 at 09:32 PM
That's a truly fine poem. Self-aware and perfectly nuanced. I'm glad to have met you, Shelley.
Posted by: lola Haskins | January 20, 2025 at 12:08 PM