There’s a dead mosquito on my dashboard, on her back, legs pointing up in the air; Perhaps overfed, on my blood engorged; I’m not sure how long she’s been lying there.
I’ve never been one for cleaning my cars; something that my wife cannot comprehend. A minor role to play in my memoirs; I don’t know her history, only her end.
Would it be so weird to give her a name, something infused with deeper meaning? Well, no matter, there’s nothing to explain; she’ll be gone once my wife does the cleaning.
Prathet Thai (ประเทศไทย) literally ‘free nation’ Phra Athit (พระอาทิตย์) The Celestial Emperor. Mae Khong (แม่ของ) River known as the Mekong in the West. Mae Posop (แม่โพสพ) The Rice Goddess The Naga (พญานาค) The Great Serpent Mae Suay Dawan (แม่สวยดาวัน) The sun seeking reflection. Nang Ron (นางร้อน) Invisible but felt everywhere. Krungthep (กรุงเทพ) Bangkok Phee WaeLa (ผีเวลา) The embodiment of lazy afternoons
Phra Athit, celestial emperor, leads his royal procession each day across the shimmering sky. Breathing life into the rice paddies, his golden robes gild temple roofs and commands the reverence of the Mae Khong.
The hardy must endure his midday glare until a truce is brokered with Mae Posop and the Naga, and so the seasons share the throne.
Mae Suay Dawan brushes pastel dawn over the Andaman Sea jewels of dew at her feet, a gown woven from the first warm hush of morning. Her quiet radiance outshines the golden trumpet trees.
Nang Ron, lazy and playful trickster, throws a heavy, humid blanket over the melting asphalt of Krungthep. Mirages rise like whispered promises of cool, eyelids sag with heat; she lulls us gently toward our hammocks.
The chef grills the city in a giant wok, the rent is paid in sweat.
Phee Waela draws out the drones of the cicadas melting away afternoons. The breath of the slumbering dragon, an endless exhale.
Above the roaring chaos of the rooms The petty squabbles of emotional fools Moulding little munchkins while running on fumes Stuck in a system broken; made to be rules
Making peace amongst the many positions Knowing little more than the best use of tools Embracing the insistent inquisitions Every teacher’s a student that schools
I found a job that I truly love, where I can put my whole self into it. Shared with dVerse OLN #396 and this didn’t get many eyes and also conveniently meets the What’s Going On prompt this week too.