Food Stall in Bangkok

by A. Diao Lavina

On dishwater wet concrete, crouched

the woman does not contemplate age.

Colors roost weary after listless crowing.

Soon the choking heat invades.

The woman does not contemplate age.

People point. She cooks. She cleans each dish.

Soon the choking heat invades.

Wordlessly they eat, they pay, they leave.

People point. She cooks. She cleans each dish.

No one thinks, How sturdy her eyes.

Wordlessly they eat, they pay, they leave.

Her husband swears no second wife.

No one thinks. How sturdy her eyes.

All are locked without the pivot of strangled lives.

Her husband swears no second wife.

Days lunge and break hard like motorcycle rides.

All are locked without the pivot of strangled lives.

On beaten street the dust croaks. It doesn't rain,

and the days lunge and break hard like motorcycle rides.

We glance and pause in politic gasps.

The woman does not contemplate age.

The city sings the city strains

and soon the choking heat invades

through which we see, through which we wade.