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cambodia

In the gardens of Kampuchea the lotus sprout from skulls.

The secret of life is to attain belief that nothing

will be there when I return.

Extract expectation from the squishy gray matter,

plant it beside the lotus, through the eye socket, the nose

hole, behind the grimacing teeth. Plant deep.

The lotus grows from

slime, from the blood, explodes like uranium

enriched earth, spattering brains, bits of bone across fields,

leaves a meteor's crater in my breast, deep, torn.

But no matter, life is

like that, full of pain, agony, torment and yet

pure, unblemished lotus sprout from skulls.

~

Jan Haag, 2003

4
clouds
angkor wedding angkor wedding angkor wedding angkor wedding
chicken feet amputee
krama girl all-weather protection
imagine skulls
sweeping away
6 lowk neam out of the dark
kids
:: kids ::
memories of the  Cambodian genocide
:: memories of the Cambodian genocide ::
mind your own (monkey) business!
:: mind your own (monkey) business! ::