From 5b6a6602c4ac5dafc2a939764da688782ee6c1eb Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: Pheng Heong TAN
No, my trip to the
+ sea-shore
+ wasn't a dream
+ See-
+ The sand on my feet-
+
+ Away to (hopefully) safety: A poem, written after reading
+ Loung Ung's "First they killed my father", set in Pol Pot's
+ Cambodia, rife with the "not-nice" Khmer Rouge, "destroyers
+ of things"
+
+ Wordlessly,
+ I smacked the coffee-stain
+ on its rump-
+ And checked-
+ Was it gone?
+ Maybe, the sea - where I had sent it to - was not its home,
+ but then,
+ neither was I;
+ Or, I could no longer be
+