Bryan Thao Worra
Bryan Thao Worra Poems
|41.||What Tomorrow Takes Away -new-||11/14/2017|
|42.||Swallowing The Moon -new-||11/14/2017|
|43.||Moon Crossing Bone||7/29/2013|
|45.||Surprises In America||7/13/2012|
|46.||Golden Triangle, Holy Mountain||7/13/2012|
|49.||New Myths Of A Northern Land||7/13/2012|
|50.||Our Dinner With Cluster Bombs||7/13/2012|
|52.||E Pluribus Unum||7/13/2012|
|54.||A Crime In Xieng Khouang||7/29/2013|
Comments about Bryan Thao Worra
A Crime In Xieng Khouang
Someone stole my boots from
A Phonsavan porch
Around dinner time
In the dark.
I suspect it was my tour guide-
The one who trained to be a diplomat,
Whose future drained away
With the American departure.
When I first bought them,
The box proclaimed they were
“Hard To Kill”
And by extension, I assume,
So was I, though there were no
written words to that effect.
Forty dollars is a good price
But it‟s nearly a year‟s pay
In these parts.
I should have known
New American boots
In an Asian size
Don‟t come by often ...
The spirits enjoy suggesting not everything is written down
Ahead of time.
There are mysteries for everyone without exception
In the secret books and ledgers of the heavens.
On earth, you can change your position and fortunes?
These hopes make life worth living.