A bot tweeting excerpts of Ocean Vuong's poetry, prose, and occasionally interviews every hour. Formatting preserved whenever possible. Not affiliated.
Joined July 2020
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This is out now!
Ocean Vuong is going to publish a collection of poems, releasing 4/5/2022, more details here: penguinrandomhouse.com/books…
Twitter's API access restrictions have finally hit this bot, and so it will cease running for a while! I'll link the document I have with the quotes below this tweet. If anyone knows any good alternatives to CBDQ please let me know! Thank you so much to CBDQ for everything <3
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The admin of this account is not in tech and works full time, so finding another host for this bot is a project on the backburner, unfortunately. I will update with anything I find when I do! Thank you everyone for your love!
Here is the link to the quotes document: teapaw.org/oceanvbot/status/16225…
Hello! Based on the comments of a few people, I have included the bot's quotes in this spreadsheet, which should stay up even if this bot stops posting. Feel free to dm me if you need the source on any of these! I check dms infrequently but I do check. docs.google.com/spreadsheets…
By questioning everything, by accepting that all human inventions, language and art included, are corruptible, and that as much as we have the capacity for beauty, we also have the capacity for fraudulence.
Tell me it was for the hunger
& nothing less. For hunger is to give
the body what it knows
it cannot keep.
the bullet achieves its name
by pushing the body into itself flesh
refugeed into flesh I was struck
by these words we say I was struck by
this passage it moved right through
opened me up
I walk towards it: a razor
sharpened with silence.
A jawline etched in smoke.
The mouth where I’ll be made
new again.
Some nights you are the lighthouse
some nights the sea
what this means is that I don't know
desire other than the need
to be shattered & rebuilt
Being sorry pays, being sorry even, or especially, when one has no fault, is worth every self-deprecating syllable the mouth allows. Because the mouth must eat.
A new immigrant, within two years, will come to know that the salon is, in the end, a place where dreams become the calcified knowledge of what it means to be awake in American bones — with or without citizenship — aching, toxic, and underpaid.