Khop Jai For Nothing, Falangs Poem by Bryan Thao Worra

The bomb popped in his face
While he was digging a fire pit

For his family squatting
On the old mercenary camp

In Xieng Khouang province
So notorious for its UXO.

'They live there for the American plumbing, '
Our host said flatly,
Watching volleyball games by the airstrip.

This was wholly routine.

The ruined grounds were frozen.
Explosives, dormant blooms below
Can be mistaken for ice and rock easily.

And he screamed

The whole while as we loaded
Him into the back of our rickety plane
To Vientiane that

Lao Aviation picked up from
The Russians when everyone

Thought the Cold War
Was going somewhere.

The California girl on holiday
Was aghast and found it

Quite unscenic.
What a pall on her search for highs.

In Wat Inpeng,
A monk named Souk

Confided discretely:
'We really hate hippies.'