Thailand

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Bangkok, my friend writes, is evil
and she is going to
save it
from Buddha and Nirvana.

Sundays, I like to read
gossip
and drink coffee
when I should be in church.

I fell my friend that I am
chaste and devout
as lilacs
because she asks, because she wants me
to be because she is
in Bangkok.

Yesterday, I forgot my coat.
Bangkok, she writes, is hot.
It clings to her,
mosquito net,

tangled in the dark.

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