1bigblackblog

KEP AND KAMPOT


row row row your boat
gently down the stream
merrily merrily merrily....

i wish there was a way to convey the experiences
of being in kep and travelling by taxi to kampot
how can i describe sitting in the front seat of a '88 toyota camry
with three adult khmer men and seven women and children
at rear as it passes around a herd of cows

i also wish it were possible for me to accurately tell you
of sleeping under a misquito net in a hillside wood floored
bungalow with both door and windows open all and every night

if only the right and proper words existed that could fill
your nose your nostrils with smells and
scents of butchered meat of coconut oil
and of sweating bodies in the day market

finally what phrase or syllable could make tears
come to your eyes as they sometimes came to mine
when child woman or man would smile
so open so honest so genuine

since i know of no way nor word let me plainly say that yes....
life is but a dream

TOUCH ME


the forum text read :

"I'm living and working in Lahore for at least 1 year
and I'm tired of being closeted to everyone I've met.
Does anyone know how to meet other lesbians in the area?
I'm not fishing for sex particularly, just other women
who will admit to fancying gals and some friends who
aren't constantly asking when I'm going to marry
some nice man...."

looking away from the monitor i think how odd it is
to live in a small country with over 100 million people
and have difficulty finding someone to touch you and
to allow you to touch in return

and i think about a share taxi ride to kompong som.
the driver is honking the horn and weaving our way
through a herd of cattle. the looing mouth of a wide eyed calf
passes inches from my own as i am cramped against
the passenger door and open window by three other adults
including one who half sat on the driver's lap

my attention briefly turns with a bit of irritation from the cows
and scenery of rice paddies and forested hills to the young man
seated at my right who has fallen asleep and whose head is now
on my shoulder. i look back out the side window.
a stone marker indicates 53 kilometers to go.

for a moment or two and quite unexplicably i recall my ex-wife
opening the door and with a big smile dropping keys
and purse to the floor, removing her nurse's uniform,
walking over to our bed, getting in, kissing me, saying
"oh baby i love you so", snuggling compactly and perfectly
and then falling into a deep sleep. with snores

we cross a newly built bridge with a banner waving
in the midmorning sun and wind proclaiming:
"a gift from usaid and the people of america".
sitting on a stone marker is a young boy holding a rope
which is tied to the neck of a grass chewing goat.
noticing me the boy shouts "hello".
kompong som is 37 kilometers more.

the young man asleep on my shoulder begins to snore.

THE COOKIE


an anonymous comment on an anonymous website:

"There is something in the air these days.
It is as if the air hates beauty, creativity, spirit.
all you read these days in the news, in comments online,
and all you hear in friends conversations is hate.
The air is heavy with hate and dullness.

I'm not an artist... I'm a scientist, an engineer.
As I work to achieve what I consider beauty
-- the functional beauty of technology--
I hear the voice of the Zeitgeist of the present age
whispering in my ear "do it!" "do it!"
It is, of course, encouraging me to kill myself...."


i decided to go for a walk as the urge for something sweet
had gotten the better of me. so i decided to go for a walk
to the superior market on vermont avenue and buy
one dollar's worth of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies

while returning home, just at the fifty first street bridge,
i noticed a man climbing the fence that separates the street
from the freeway below. when i realized and understood
that he was going to leap down onto the speeding traffic,
i was shocked. what does one do when faced with such a sight?

in the time it takes a molecule to lose an electron
and become positively charged, i thought. and then said
"hello, my friend, have a cookie. they're really very good"
a look of bewilderment appeared on the man's face.
he stared at me and said "what!?"

i walked to within a couple of feet of him. "have a cookie.
theyre really very good and if you are going to call it a day
and jump down onto the freeway then you should enjoy
one last good thing before you die" i smile and held out the bag

in the time it takes a molecule to lose a proton
and become negatively charged, he looked at me
then climbed back down onto the street,
timidly peered in the open bag, reached inside,
and pulled out a cookie.

i put my arm across his shoulders and said
"my friend, if life is so damn unbearable
and so unrelentingly horrible, you deserve
one last good pleasure before you die.
take the cookies. they're really very good"

i gave him the bag and walked away.