newhope

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Children of the emerald houses
draped in hammocks
curled up in corners
lying like thrown dolls
fallen immaculate
upon the bright mopped floors,
do you dream of your parents
and the lives you had before
you landed here
in the loving protection
of the one god’s home?
They are gone now
the sad flesh that bore you
to other lives
chasing the saccharine rainbow
dream of malaysian soaps
in country or countries unknown,
but they left the better part
of themselves here
when they stole away
in the dead dust haze
across hell’s border
and reset their lives calender
to year zero.

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poipet nights

P1020920

Tonight the midnight giant
burns
coal-red upon the wall
in silent sleepless
soliloquies of dreaming.
The air whispers
cool around us
sifted by unseen hands
by the thousand
sighing daemons of
condensation
and evapouration
how quietly the processes
of life proceed
that keep us from burning.

Come to the window
sweet is the night air.

No sleep here tonight
in the midnight roaring
the endless churning
of dust upon the sea of milk
myself
will not unwind myself
tonight
unspool itself back
upon the black
and bottomless
unconscious ocean floor
of sleep
not yet,
we small creatures
that come and go
shadow cats
slipping beneath seats
sliding around the careless feet
of strangers,
we come and go

expire
empires
at the end of decadence.

O love that will not
let me go.

And outside the great river
roars on
insatiable capitalism’s
smooth-shod
leviathons
carrying crushed shadows
and cargos of souls
out to the distant,
tail-backed night border.
Along the road
black Shiva walks naked
back to his home
beneath the burnt papaya.