War Stories

by Isabel Dorn

I’ve been reading about what happened in Vietnam,
he said, patting the thick tome of knowledge
as he leaned on the library table, face flushed
with the exhilaration of war stories and weed smoke,
grinning down at me in anticipation
of my sweet, approving smile.

Oh, my clever American boy,
tell me a tale of my people’s war.
Let me watch you with doe eyes
and amuse you with my naivete.
I’m built like my mother, small and fragile -

like the hand grenades
that you romanticize when you dream
of a resistance you will never see
of a sacrifice you will never pay.

My blood runs orange with the flames of war
where poison rained upon my shore
and birthed the rage of three million ghosts

but of course, my dear hero, you still know better,
because last night you got high and read Uncle Ho’s letters

and somehow forgot
that a poet must learn to wage war.

Oh, my silly American boy,
I’ll tell you a tale of my people’s war.
Watch me with poor lustful eyes
and amuse me with your naivete.

Isabel Dorn (she/her) is a graduate student who uses poetry to examine the complexities of intersectionality and coming of age in the 21st century. As a Vietnamese American woman, she sees writing as a powerful tool for social justice and strives to create more visibility for underrepresented groups with her work.