Summer 1979 • Vol. I No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1979 |

The Return

I. By the banks of the Mekong River there still stands a ragged geodesic dome built by the crack shelter group of the Army Corps of Engineers. Some of its panels are beaten out, some reflect in jungle bluenesses, shards of bright moonlight. It blocks the dirt road the Meilinese are building from the North. Toiling gangs of girls and men with baskets yoked and carried on the shoulder push their way past others hard at work with long-shanked spades. On my right you can see the stalls of the peasantry, lighted by soft paper lanterns and covered with flowers; they're selling sweetmeats, hot yams, green meat balls, scented with ginger and wrapped in big leaves. The whole place is decked with streamers of crepe paper, purple, crimson, and white, colors of the Revolutionary People's Democracy of Mei Lin. In Cantonese the name means "admirable lotus," their flag in many battlefields was found limp with water wrapped round the skinny body of a dead Lin Rouge in a ditch at the edge of

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High May

By Frederick Turner

I. By the banks of the Mekong River there still stands a ragged geodesic dome built by the crack shelter group of the Army Corps of Engineers. Some of its […]

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