Timmy, the name he took
when he came to America,
spent
two years
in the Tiger cages
of Vietnam
but seems not to have
carried that suffering
into the present.
He speaks rapidly
and that combined
with his accent
leaves me
without much comprehension
only a little
and with that “little”
try to carry on a conversation
I’m the only person
who really
listens to him
so
he gives me
Chinese pears
also lychees
and kumquats.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem