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My Lai

On the 16th day of the 3rd month of my sunniest year the other side of the world was a cold gray river splashing boots soldiers slashing an 300 unarmed peasants but I was in the 24th year of a warm spring glow wearing mini- skirt and stylish boots reading romances old as Camelot. In my countless young days, what did I care for massacres on the far side of an earth that was my own, untouched and ivory the polished bone of untold generations singing ancient songs from towers of smashing silver knights for ladies of a lai’s romance so many years ago without number.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005




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