Show Me Thailand on the Map | Sandra Evans
Houses upon houses, shacks upon shacks,
wood upon wood and corrugated metal
a fiction of urban sprawl without the interstate and malls
jobs to go to in those fuel-less cars,
money to buy frilly lingerie in those shining stores.
The people do pour out of the hillside like rainwater
into houses into shacks, to wait and watch
the sky for bombers decades back in time.
Is there a country to fight for without a name
and a border made of a river and a ridge
not a red line or a black parallel
palimpsest of a motherland.
All this will sail away and you will come to a place
and the people of fifteen tribes
gathered around lakes in the hills of a river
they are doctors and politicians
own greenhouses and markets.
They work at Wal-Mart and Tom Thumb,
take care of each other’s children
and fix each other’s cars,
celebrate lives for days with food and fire.
We speak an almost common tongue
here at the forty-second parallel.