As a child, my aunt told me, she was luh-peuh. During the high water season, she would sneak away in a little boat and paddle out to the temple. Or she would jump out into the Bassac River from the veranda of my grandparents' stilted house and swim. Those were not things that little girls … Continue reading jumping

procreation, 3

instead of grandchildren i birth poems about and for my parents which i rarely show to them i tuck them away in public corners of the internet and dwell in the uncertainty of whether they have ever stumbled onto them never knowing whether the pieces delight or horrify it is easier for children never to … Continue reading procreation, 3