Eric Tran



I learn it means people prone to sadness
who develop depression, but it reminds me

of a favorite Chinese restaurant: Double
Happiness, where they snuck me extra

fortune cookies for my loyalty,
or double rainbow, that oversaturated

miracle. And what’s that they say about
the necessity of rain? I’m sorry, double

depressed, I don’t mean to make light
of your sorrow, I mean only to say

I love you as I look into the two-sided
mirror and see you and then myself,

as a set of bunk beds for adults,
how the heart has two of each

chamber, which fill and collapse
in unison, as song underneath another song.


ERIC TRAN is a resident physician in psychiatry in Asheville, NC. He is the winner of the Autumn House Press Emerging Writer’s contest and the author of The Gutter Spread Guide to Prayer. He is also the author of the chapbooks Revisions and Affairs with Men in Suits. His work appears or is forthcoming in Pleiades, Iowa Review, 32 Poems, Poetry Daily, and elsewhere.


Read more by Eric Tran:

Poem at Poetry Daily
Two poems in Four Way Review
Poem in Best of the Net