siem reap wawn*

fish ©papa osmubal

fish ©papa osmubal

siem reap wawn
adam aitken

Traffic noise – there isn’t much
the road’s a washed out laterite
and the smell is fish – the drying kind.
Nothing spinning
but the moto driver’s hungover head.
Light breaks through – clean white clouds
and the girls are busy sweeping.
The foreigners French and nervous
as children and sparrows peck at monuments.

TV going on and off
in a country whose past
outrates its future.
I sip beer with the Russians
the rodents have all been eaten.
And Buddha, hung with fairy lights
visibly delighted
withdraws some cash from an ATM.

* This is a reworking of Michelle Cahill’s ‘Bangkok Dawn’. (–Adam Aitken)


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