sarong whacks

precisely

my computer took these pictures of the quiet morning

cafe night phnom penh

.54

.97

homework!

palm pile up

sweet

soursop sOP sopa pop

• lychee EYES!EYES!

teenyeenyweeny bAnAnAnnnnn ahs

so with no camera and no visuals

what shall i do
what shall i do
said the small bird
in a cage with many other twitterers
twittering
cooked later golden
smaller than a wing at the colonel
skinned little birdie pile
4 and twenty beat the pie rap
heads still sleeping
eyes closed dreaming of saffron
and marzipan

further sprouting like a weed

c shock tales on another blog
talkkhmer

first "known" cultural snafu

*funny*

i saw some sallyann style stuff hanging
(thought oh neat old clothes ) in front of a store
on the street like all the other places
went and fondled it lovingly
it was wet
then i saw the sign
*laundry*

3 days upright dreaming of beds

and now i have one yet i wander through warm street sound and the twisted limbs smiling people saying hello lady you want moto? and saying no thank you not today it is a holiday the anniversary of the end of the genocide, jan 7 ( it's a day ahead of where my blog "lives") so that seems like a grand thing to celebrate. with that by the river there are people hawking wares, such as live turtles and birds in flocks no less, what do you do with those? and strange green pods that travel in beautiful ordered piles on young girls heads balanced, a creature that looks more animal than vegetable, i thought the seeds most eyelike, and i think i'd have that same interpretation even sans the shock of sleep deprivation. Bookshops allover, second hand, the prices are so cheap who would have thought literature by the drove on the streets of phnom penh, and cafe's with amazing coffee, the holdover from the colonial days, a soup with gnarly bits meaty tasty and coconut, milder that thai but just as sweet, and smiles smiles everywhere.
so to sleep, i'll make some sense of this, or spin some lesser thread of fine yarn another time. my room has no window.
room has no window.
room has no window.
i don't think i could look now, my looking is sated...

again upright in a world full of beds

once again i prat, er pray
to the gods of cellular
immunity
for self has cured self.
being sentient has nothing to
do with it. nada
it just happened like flowers
coming out of seed

sounds so nice

aloud
just say

clay door

out loud
now

a toast

2oo7 shall be a fine year

2oo72oo72oo72oo72oo72oo72oo72oo7

2007200720072007

happy new year !
happy new year !
happy new year !
happy new year !
happy new year !
happy new year !