By Nancy Liao
My friend’s lips move; her words knit a simple storyThe story retreats from focus, interrupted…
I am locked, like the Moon to the Earth,
I am all ears and mouth and eyes
and you must know that this is all,
first and foremost,
narcissism.
Father, you are a banyan tree
Spread on an old riverbank,
Mother knows only your roots,
And the falling of your leaves.
You tell her to tie her hair and wear
Maybe you founded a company and disrupted an industry, all last summer. Or maybe the biggest takeaway from your internship is a collection of seventeen syllables, that classic form: the haiku.