top of page
compressedBlankenship - Nose.jpg

Timmy Chong


Tennis in my drums, trouble in a glass,
sweet to a stranger. Sweeping all that’s
extra, saving it for later. Maybe you’ve
been staying for a while, and the blow
has been kind. At least lately. There is
a rip in the lead, I treat it like a detour
then drink, then listen for the leakage.
You ring like a rhythm from home yet
I'm waiting on a phone call (as I shred
evidence of everything) I pray I forget.
I want you to fold another gift and let
the wreck of a night figure things out.
I want you to say something regretful
and come back tomorrow with a grin.

Timmy Chong is Korean, Chinese, and childish. He’s a twenty-something dogfather and copywriter from Maryland, and was a finalist for the 2023 Iron Horse Chapbook Competition. His poems have been shared in Rogue Agent, Up the Staircase, Drunk in a Midnight Choir, and other lovely, funky, possibly defunct places.

bottom of page