"Lieu" - a story of love in war

Lieu 

by Mike Marcellino

South Vietnam, 1967.

Silly beginning, careless ending

lizards clung to the dim lit wall.

Thomas and i met her at Sherwood Forest,

the nightclub,

smiling at us over beer,

fries

and a now and then

Saigon Tea.

In a

sputtering

Honda 90

humanly propelled

by a papa-san

pimp,

I rode through

hit and miss,

foot, leg, peddle-powered

traffic -

Saigon streets

darkness after curfew

riding in the close warm

black night.

Teaming, steaming

from the Tahiti,

20 century

brick-fronted

same on the inside

hotel.

While Thomas

worried,

tripping

i shivered

(not really).

Inside outside

perfect night for baseball.

Lieu

dug store bought;

i read her scrolling

on a crumpled

piece of

paper

light brown

one six four and one-half

some street.

Self-conscious me

in Bermuda shorts,

naked legs

walking down winding back alleys

to find Lieu

and ma-muc.

Ma-muc

-burnt red stained beetle nut chew

in her mouth

bulging,

crushed

by an earthen

ceramic set.

Bermuda shorts hairy legs me and

ma muc

who smiles,

giggles -

Lieu’s ma ma san mother.

Her daughter came

home

happy

made me eat

gobbling hers.

Lieu,

and ma-muc

grabbing my leg hair,

giggling.

First joy of waiting,

simple thing

so tense

exciting -

Showering from

body tall vases

in the corner

morning after

love, her

surfer t-shirt mini on.

Lieu laughed,

cried,

gave

really.

Maybe she loves

someone

else

tonight.

Her oily

brown face,

round, dark eyes

long, straight black hair.

Not a fair maiden,

but no whore.

Copyright Mike Marcellino, 2007