Lana Bella: Dear Suki
Andrew Pons

Andrew Pons

DEAR SUKI: NUMBER TWENTY-SEVEN

Dear Suki: Ha Noi, October 5th,
it was a morning of thistle yarns
and little rain, crushed ice in the
glass, fingers fixed to strike up
a match to the slim Lucky Strike.
I crouched like a sorry truth with
a lax noose draping my neck; pale
glory of sunrise lingered near to
say hello. Blinked static and Ha-
Noi wind gave rise to the jarring
of peddlers seething through the
nether boulevard, berserk with
a rich stench of grilled pork and
fertilized duck eggs smothered in
tamarind sauce. All foul skin on
inconsiderable hope, I moved from
floor to cabinet, tracing the dense
walnut creases, possessed with
an intent to stroll past the yellow
walls of picture frames: my eyes
ever so voltaic and defiant under
lucent strings of dust, smiles dark
and puncturing. And how startlingly
real I still lurched at the aches of
what stunning me midway from
anxiety to panic, to sitting wet and
empty in the hours of schizophrenia.


A Pushcart nominee, Lana Bella is an author of two chapbooks, Under My Dark (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2016) and Adagio (Finishing Line Press, forthcoming), has had poetry and fiction featured with over 250 journals, California Quarterly, Chiron Review, Columbia Journal, Poetry Salzburg Review, Plainsongs, San Pedro River Review, The Writing Disorder, Third Wednesday, and elsewhere, among others. 

Lana divides her time between the US and the coastal town of Nha Trang, Vietnam, where she is a mom of two far-too-clever frolicsome imps.