Things I can only say in poems about/to an unspecified ‘you’ by Allison Thung
Limited edition print copy from the 2026 Garden Party Chapbook Contest!
Shipping in Fall 2026!
cover art: I’m afraid it’s just the rain by Christina Ortiz
Allison Thung is a Singaporean poet. She is the author of two other poetry chapbooks: Reacquaint (kith books, 2024) and Molar (kith books, 2024). Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, Best Microfiction, and Best Small Fictions; and she is an Assistant Poetry Editor at ANMLY. Find her at @poetrybyallison or www.allisonthung.com.
Praise for Things I can only say in poems about/to an unspecified ‘you’:
"I’ll be honest—I just want an excuse" Thung says in 'Soul Sister', deftly glossing over the one that's been found—this scrapbook of stories, these closed open doors. This look back at lovers; it's own hallowed grounds. Things I can only say in poems about/to an unspecified 'you' never drifts out of first person, it's not interested in guessing or rehashing fights. These poems center the 'you' but they live for the writer. Often tender, sometimes saddened or pleading, there's a reckoning in progress within; with choices and people, and the imprint they've made.
Thung's speakers seek complicit reflection. They are mining the foregone and, while they remember, they're looking to learn. "[T]o say you make me stupid unfairly absolves me of all responsibility" ('Fool'), "to say you make me stupid" unpicks the importance; Thung invites evolution—she's keeping the scars. These are postcards, are moments; are curtains pulled up to reveal how the world shapes a want shapes a love shapes a girl.
- wim blair, kith books EIC
If you are not already in love when you begin reading Allison Thung’s latest poetry collection, Things I can only say in poems about/to an unspecified 'you,' you will be by the time you reach the last page. Thung’s poems are swooningly lovely, paired with photographs that both complement and enhance. Moving seamlessly between free verse, prose, and experimental forms, each poem captures how everyday items—the rain, buttered bread, a neighborhood cat—can conjure memories of love.
Thung’s writing embodies the tentativeness of new love when the speaker is, “asking an eight ball where we stand and crossing my fingers,” as well as the disappointment of love’s ending when “everything is soft, soft, soft, and our song plays in the wrong key.” Readers at all stages of love will find something in this collection, which invests deeply in holding the seemingly ordinary details of life up to the light to let them shine.
-Frances Klein author of Another Life and editor of Flight: A Literary Sampler
Allison Thung’s Things I can only say in poems
about/to an unspecified ‘you’ is a quiet song of love, domesticity, and untold yearning. Each piece belies a personal, yet highly relatable notion of letting yourself love and be loved. This chapbook is quiet morning walks, tender conversations over dinner, and a raw willingness to know and to be known. It’s a book that’s steady, that shines brightly, yet inspires the sweetest of aches.
-arushi (aera) rege, GPC 2026 Judge
