The Emperor of Gladness

by Ocean Vuong

We pay taxes on every check to stand on the sinking banks of a river that becomes the morgue of our dreams.

The thing about the pills was that he felt, once their magic seeped into him, like he was finally slipping naked into a warm, dry bed with thick wool sheets after days of walking soaked to the bone in rain.

I scrub feet so we can have this shitty apartment. You think I like bowing my head to white people like they were gods twenty times a day?”