The Dragons of Lumphini Park 

In Bangkok’s central park, gold-speckled snouts

push ripples into morning light. Beyond 

the banyans, offices scrape sky. 

Nearby, a hawker sells chopped chicken feet 

to the faithful, who, for luck, toss them 

raw to the water. A businessman crouches 

in couture suit to see the still lake break 

its mirror and large, slick lizards clamber the bank. 

When you come to feed your dragon, behold 

the moldy armor of its throat, those ancient coin-silver eyes.

Kimberly Gibson-Tran holds two degrees in linguistics. Their recent writings appear in MEMEZINE, t’ART, Hole in the Head Review, The Bombay Literary Magazine, Baltimore Review, Rust & Moth, Reed Magazine, and elsewhere. Raised by medical missionaries in Thailand, she now lives in Princeton, Texas with her husband and cats.