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Monday, August 01, 2022


by Bunkong Tuon

Lightning lit up the night sky
Thunder crashing the world.
My bedroom walls shook.
Windows felt like they were about to explode.
And my foundation crumbled.
I was again back in the jungles.
The fighting happened mostly at night.
The moon hid behind the smoke and branches.
Trees stood still. Everything was quiet but the sounds
Of rifles and rocket launchers and the screaming 
Streaming out of the mouths of children and parents.
There are no winners and losers in war.
There are only civilians who didn’t ask for any of it.

Bunkong Tuon is a Cambodian-American writer and critic. He is the author of three poetry collections and a chapbook. His prose and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in New York Quarterly, Copper Nickel, Lowell Review, Massachusetts Review, The American Journal of Poetry, carte blanche, among others. He teaches at Union College, in Schenectady, NY.