On Am Thần Núi. It's in Đồng Nai, which means Deer Meadow, but the last deer there was likely eaten a century ago.

At Am Thần Núi, poet Ly Doi, lying shirtless, is having his numerous physical and mental illnesses exorcised.

Poets Ly Doi and Lynh Bacardi. About 20 years ago, I drew the cover for a Ly Doi collection. Lynh Bacardi, I last saw in December of 2019. Later this evening, she would read a poem that had me in tears. Both Ly Doi and Lynh Bacardi are in my anthology of contemporary Vietnamese poetry, The Deluge.

16 hours after leaving Tan Son Nhat Airport the night before. On my right is poet Bui Chat, who's also the publisher of my two collections of poems in Vietnamese. The newest I only saw for the first time this day. 

Left to right: photographer Trà Cù Lủ, Nymph, poet Bùi Chát, me, painter Trần Thế Vĩnh, poet Huỳnh Lê Nhật Tấn and scholar Hà Vũ Trọng.