an Oregon expatriate in Thailand

last night's downpour did something
to dispel the grime from the weathered concrete
of this small city in central Thailand;

there is a sense of new life
in the fifty-foot palm over my backyard
and a hint of pleasure in the wet fronds
as the round, green fetuses march toward a likelier victory;

the smallish geckos that people
every exposed wall and ceiling
have taken refuge Buddha knows where
but tommorow they'll eat fatly;

also the butterflies will be out
in a force of glowing colors
that has grown usual even to these eyes
accustomed to desolate yellow hills
and the occasional jack rabbit;

the wild grey coy with fire eyes
who exist in the murky university ponds
were worried in their primal way;
after all, it's been hot,
even creepingly arid
for over a month now;

nevertheless, the late morning drizzle
has dampened the stream
through the tawdry mini-markets
and noisy play-station arcades;
the hollow human energy is briefly stalled;

and I alone am up-beat
in my sub-existent kind of way
waiting for a bowl of noodles, greens, and tiny squid,
a walking, typing refuge
for a menagerie of bizzare memories
idle years of prodigal study
and a life force scarred but re-vitalized
by a string of Siamese mis-adventures.