Michael Murray | Thursday, 24 June 2021 | Print
23rd June 2021
He talks less frequently
And when he does he appears ill at ease
Like a wounded spider spinning a defective web.
He still sometimes expounds his fantasies
Of escaping Phnom Penh’s gelatinous cage
But he talks less frequently
When the gathering shadows of the afternoon
Finally gathers up its tattered monotonous robes
Marking the end of yet another drab and dreary day.
His voice filled with lassitude and ennui
He speaks of going to some more tranquil place
Escaping the sclerotic traffic that clogs
All of Phnom Penh’s concrete canyons, streets and lanes
Somewhere he can watch the waves
Cavort gaily on a golden beach.
That halcyon dream is receding
A half remembered hallucination
Forever out of reach
That floats in clouds of smoke
In some pleasant opium haze.
He still is lost in reverie
Spinning yarns and embellishments
With nostalgia tainted voice
Of better places and travels when
He was still young and felt carefree
Before the slags he riles against
Divested him of all his money!
With feeble intention, without belief
He announces he for sure will leave
Head to the beach to Koh Kong
Live life more pleasantly
The next month when he gets money
Or at the very latest the month after that
No one believes these assertions
Least of all him
We all know he will never leave
This is his prison cell, his tomb
This dingy, dirty guesthouse room
Each day we bear witness
To his slowly ebbing will and energy
We know he will remain in Phnom Penh
We see the shadow hounding him
As daily he inches closer to
Inevitable quickly approaching death.
Posted 7:50 pm | Thursday, 24 June 2021
globalpoetandpoetry.com | Faruk Ahmed Roni
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