salt fields, kampot cambodia

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passing them
from the back of a scooter
unsure at first –
a gloss
reflecting sky
or rectangles
of ice, rows
harvested
white
little pyramids

christmas 2013 (hitching in thailand)

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i remember there was a market
just beginning
as we left bangkok
stalls setting
up, streets
closing off

curb waiting
bus to ayutthaya
night arriving
storytelling
on the balcony
which in the morning
i discovered
was painted
peach

by the river
on steps
watching boats
at a table
drinking tea
birdcages
surrounding
looking
looking, trying
not to look

bicycles
past ruins
of stone, palaces
in grass
past lights
lighting trees
market, paying
with little stones

pink elephants
dressed up
we stole away
saw the show
from fields
for free
fireworks, shadows
of actors, a history
the old kingdom
of siam

mango sticky
rice on the side
of the road
got a ride
to ang thong
radio antenna
in air like
pencil lines
hotel corridors
mosquitoes
you are on the phone
to a friend named
lina

sing buri
someone, a kid
called his mother
a teacher, to help
translate
black marker
on cardboard
lines and shapes
new alphabet
someone, her cousin
drove us
to the next town

christmas eve
khlong khlung
7 eleven
taro buns
and rum, VIP
room, roadside
guesthouse

morning
petrol station
i remember
there were windmills
green and yellow
a bird sitting
on top
the yellow

back
of a red pick up
highway
then smaller
mountain roads
scarf around
cold wind
the driver
made a stop
bought us
corn

arriving in li
that curved arch
in shimmers
pillows outside
for prayer
looking for
rooms on backs
of scooters

we are almost
to chiang mai
i remember tall
fountain grass
a rhythm
of sunlight
passing through stems
from a car
window, back
seat closing
eyes once
twice
we are almost there-
to chiang mai

koh ta kiev

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needles green
come down
on my belly
saying hi, there’s
a pine
up there

sand hair
skin part lizard
and rabbit
this island
robinson crusoe
jungle sounds
driftwood
turned a swing table
ladder – it’s
a playground, at night
plankton twinkles
splashes and
winks

days pass
swim, nap
following
the shade
discovering
a distillery
absinthe tucked
away, paths
a tunnel
of branches
abandoned
fishing boats
coral beach
we’re there
in a tree
with cordon bleu
and fireworks

bangkok, december

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now there is gold
bordering, edges
curving up like
calligraphy

 river transport
long tails
a city dressed
in plants in greens
blues lady
boys

khao san cattle
follow me through
upstairs down
back door i know
a place this alley that
pad thai

high, fourth
floor new merry
house and karaoke
underneath
on the balcony
watching the taxis
the lights on that
christmas tree, there
across the street

four thousand islands

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watching ants
and the mekong, always
there just
there-

bicycle, yellow
watermelon
island hops khong,
then det-
something i heard,
“a tree between trees”