By Joseph Chaney
On a street leading away from
the palace, motorized rickshaws
stand. The drivers shout. And we, ten-
thousand kilometers from home,
how can we not be lost? We are.
But we have time. So we turn back,
and they see how useless it is
to curse us, but also, how right.
Copyright Chaney 2019
Joseph Chaney was born in Illinois and grew up in Tennessee. He teaches writing and literature at Indiana University, South Bend. His work has appeared in The Nation, Prairie Schooner, Black Warrior Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Roanoke Review, Stone Boat, Apple Valley Review, Spillway, Dogwood, and other publications.
All work by Joseph Chaney
