I am one of a kind,
a loner.

I’m smart, so they call
me a nerd;

they can’t think of a
better word.

It’s true. I’m ahead
of the curve.

But what they don’t
know, is that

being ahead of the curve
is not all

fun and straight A’s.
It’s lonely,

too—and mostly it’s
a damn curse!

Sometimes, if you’re

—like me—

it comes with bipolar

and suicidal feelings,

and bouts of mania!
Yeah! That’s me,

alright—one of a kind—
a loner!

See? So, do you all still
envy me?

Do you all now still want
to be me,

too—a lonely, bipolar

–Ngoc Nguyen


Sonnet: to Emily Dickinson

If Emily—Ms. Dickinson—could pen
fresh lines of verse today; what, I wonder,
would she say? Where would she even begin?
How will today change her verse—I ponder?
Would the Lady in White still write of books, —
those “frigates” of the rich imagination
that find their way in the grooves and the nooks
of her most literary creation?
Would she still ponder the tried relevance
of Life and Dying—of Mortality?
Or what of the strange nearness of distance
imposed by our hi-tech? —what Irony!
No doubt, she’d pen that though Facebook’s fresh Faces
seem happy, they’re still empty in some places—.

–Ngoc Nguyen