Bunkong Tuon | Unhappy Father’s Day | Poets Resist

Bunkong Tuon is the author of Gruel (2015) and And So I Was Blessed (2017), both poetry collections published by NYQ Books, and a regular contributor to Cultural Weekly. He is also an associate professor of English and Asian Studies at Union College, in Schenectady, NY.

Also by Bunkong Tuon: Gruel And So I Was Blessed Confession of a Tiger Dad

Poets Resist
Edited by Cody Stetzel
August 24, 2018

Bunkong Tuon

Unhappy Father’s Day

With her mother’s hand guiding Hers, my daughter writes. I love Daddy Monster. I like skateboarding with you. And my favorite, You are an Owl. But my joy is mixed with anguish, Sadness, rage this Father’s Day. Her gift brings up the horrors Of those parents who are detained, Who watch their children torn Away from their trembling hands. Grown men and women weep. Some men hang themselves with belts From Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua Because there is nothing they could do. I too was just like them: My uncles, aunts, grandparents took What they could carry. Me on my grandmother’s back, and we left Cambodia to seek refuge in America. How was my family different from theirs? Legality is but a line drawn across The desert to keep out the inhuman. Tents are constructed, and warehouses Converted into holding cells. Parents and children are separated, Placed in corrals like cattle. A child with a Michael Jordan T-shirt that says, “Just Do It!” Convulses as he watches his father Dragged away by armed officers. A mother gets down on her knees, Ties her daughter’s shoes Not knowing if she will ever Tie them again. As I hold my daughter my smile Crumbles. All I hear is The maddening, blinding roar Of children crying, women Weeping, grown men groaning.