By Brian Pham
My grandparents wielded butcher knives
as they chopped and cooked from morning until evening—
they shared stories of Vietnam.
Once my mother was given a live chicken
for her 10th birthday.
She killed it
to share for dinner that night.
My grandmother worked in a roadside restaurant,
Her job was to deal with all the meat
dead or alive.
Even my grandfather was a cook,
but he handled rice and noodle dishes.
Vietnamese vibrated off the walls
while I ran through the house
tripping and falling over yesterdays.