There is a duality in this collection - the poems about the author's mother are bracketed between ones that play with erotica to the point of crossing over in even less subtle genres. Or maybe it is better to say that the book is a book of dualities - straight vs queer, Vietnamese vs white, home vs life.

As a lot of teenagers from the diasporas (or is it just the diasporas?), the author/narrator of the poems (it is unclear how autobiographical the collection is - at least parts are for sure but...) got hounded by the "when are you going to get married?" question. What complicates things is that he is gay and refuses to settle with a wife. Except that when he finally gets a white boyfriend, it seems to be ok - that is safety.

The poems weave a story of one-night stands and lost love, of a mother caught between her culture and her desire for her son to be safe, of being different and being picked up for being different. It is a jarring collection in places - it feels like an autobiography that had managed to skip all the good parts. And even in this gloom, there is hope, there is laughter and somewhere under it, there may be a heart on the path of getting itself whole again.

The collection won't be for everyone - the language can be crude in places (and the few sex depictions are raw and honest and unveiled) and the topics may be almost alien. But it still is worth reading. ( )

This collection is full of love and pain, and something in between. I felt these poems, which is one of the best things you can ask for from poetry. Particular favorites include: "White Boy Time Machine: Instruction Manual," "Nguyen," "Type II," "The Study," "Again, What Do I Know About Desire?," "Again, Let Me Explain Again," "Mercy," "White Boy Time Machine: Override," "Changling," "The Ranger," and "Notes on Staying." ( )