“This was once a country of artisans and poets.”
— U.S. Army Colonel watching detainees unloading
from a truck at Cu Chi Base Camp
Go, Buddha
Go to the Cau Dai Temple
Implore Jesus and Victor Hugo,
the All-Seeing Eye
Tell them of the girl Ru,
squatting in the fishmarket
I saw her there today,
hair hacked short,
mouth sunken and limp,
dust from the road
turning her gray in the sun
Her family hides in the jungle
She has sold her gold teeth,
her bracelets and chains
They lead her through the base camps
from one bunker to another,
her nose flowing muddy like the Mekong
Now that her lover is beheaded
she givens them boom boom
for opium and five dollar bill
Go, Buddha
Tell them Ru was our hooch maid
She brought us fresh flounder once
She swept the floor boards clean