Time Is a Mother is Ocean Vuong’s highly anticipated second collection of poetry, centred around the loss and grief he felt following his mother’s death and the effects of war on him and his family. As you read through this collection, Vuong’s poems tear through layers of emotions, at once breathtaking, devastatingly beautiful and heartbreaking.

Several of the poems intimately weave around issues of racial identity and sexuality, giving voice to many in marginalised communities who often find their experiences painful and difficult to share. Raw and uncompromising, Vuong’s words paint a haunting image of what it means, and how it feels, to survive. Through the pain of loss, discrimination, and trauma, Vuong writes courageously about deeply personal issues with great tenderness.

‘Once, at a party set on a rooftop in Brooklyn for an “artsy vibe”, a young woman said, sipping her drink, You’re so lucky. You’re gay plus you get to write about war and stuff.’ This line from the poem ‘Not Even’ lingered in my thoughts and made me feel extremely uncomfortable. It is telling of how, in our seemingly progressive time, the inappropriateness and insensitivity of discrimination still exists among us. It is a disheartening yet true observation. Vuong’s insights elicit questions about humanity, leaving in readers a desire to seek out more writing of this kind, writing that will keep you questioning after you close the book.

This magnificent poetry collection holds great meaning and feeling. I do not know if it is the comfort or discomfort of Vuong’s words that make Time Is a Mother a masterpiece. But I believe it is worth finding out for yourself.

Luc Yong is a bookseller at Readings Carlton.