Paperback Price: $13.95
Paperback ISBN: 978-1882295036


Selected Poem

Bamboo Bridge

We cross the bridge, quietly.
The bathing girl does not see us
till we've stopped and gaped like fools.
There are no catcalls, whoops,
none of the things that soldiers do;
the most stupid of us is silent, rapt.
She might be fourteen or twenty,
sunk thigh deep in the green water,
her woman's pelt a glistening corkscrew,
a wonder, a wonder she is; I forgot.
For a moment we all hold the same thought,
that there is life in life and war is shit.
For a song we'd all go to the mountains,
eat pineapples, drink goat's milk,
find a girl like this, who cares
her teeth are stained with betel nut,
her hands as hard as feet.
If I can live another month its over,
and so we think a single thought,
a bell's resonance.
And then she turns and sees us there,
sinks in the water, eyes full of hate;
the trance broken.
We move into the village on the other side.

The Moon Reflected Fire


“Richard Burton said his father was famous as a miner because he could see the character of the coal. He would look at the face a bit, then hit it hard in the right spot, and tons of coal would fall down. I don’t know if the story is true, but I know it’s true of these poems about that war.”
—Jack Gilbert

“These are trenchant, wrenching poems. With artistry and honesty they perform an inquest into war and its corrosive after effects.”
—James Tate

“Doug Anderson is one of the bravest poets I know, utterly uncompromising. His language brims with compassion, rage, tenderness and pain. The Vietnam war is his primary subject, rendered here with a startling clarity of image and understanding, a wrenching intimacy born of experience. Anderson is cursed and blessed with memory, and his considerable poetic gift assures that we will not forget, either.”
—Martín Espada

“What is perhaps most striking about Doug Anderson’s The Moon Reflected Fire is the poet’s ability to have found forms to contain experiences most of us would not be able to acknowledge let alone embrace. He has constructed these forms with what might be called a lyrical narration wherein the poems are driven not simply by a linear telling of events, but by a careful layering of consciousness as well.”
—Bruce Weigl

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