Based on personal interviews, these poems together tell a part of the story of the migration of Singaporeans to the United States of America. Sample and Loop traces the nonlinear, multidimensional, and surprising trajectory of lived experience in musical verse. Here are the Ceramicist, the Pediatrician, the Scenic Designer, the Chef, the Porn Star, and a host of other migrant-pilgrims sharing the tales of their lives even as they continue to make those lives in a country not of their birth. By narrating their discoveries, troubles, hopes, and sorrows, they refract a powerful beam of light on both countries and compose a wayward music for the road.

Excerpt - "The Author"

for Kevin Kwan, who moved to Houston, Texas, at the age of 11

No fences. Cool. No sentry boxes. Cool,
the driveway stripes, the handkerchief-neat lawns,
like in the movies, Home Alone, or something.
He was not so hot about no maids. Lunch box
he had to pack himself and find his way
not only to but through Clear Lake High School,
the normal life his father engineered,
far away from hereditary privilege.
Who would anticipate the terminus,
the cancer in the family that struck
by lottery, and made him drop New York
for an uncertain term by his father’s bed?
There they turned over still-bright memories
of Singapore, the gate that always squeaked,
the taste of Newton wanton mee, the click
of mahjong tiles, the garden birthday parties,
and shared a joke or else a thought, a word
or three, like crazy rich Asians. And yet
another privilege—the clean, white pillow
grew hot under father and he flipped it
for a cool offertory to the head.
I know he did. Last year I did the same.