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The Crazy Lady of Ching Shwei

by Carl Robertson

Voice wrenched
like shattered china

You sang in
wind that whispered
on wet rice blades

Once the town’s flowered
bride, full-bloomed.

He left
In the green night
when rice is high
and jasmine smell
pulls the belly

You sing T’ang
love songs
by white boys’ home
and say his name.