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NOMAD WORLD TRACE
USER INFO: LOLLI

Name: Lolli

Photos: lolli's photo libraries

NAVIGATION.
Dear Cambodia ( 6th Jul, 2009 )
Words ( 28th Jun, 2009 )
Watching Kampuchea ( 8th Jun, 2009 )
June ( 2nd Jun, 2009 )
May ( 31st May, 2009 )
From and in light ( 30th Oct, 2008 )
If I flap my wings will you catch me? ( 16th Sep, 2008 )
I have a new ( 15th Sep, 2008 )
Blue sky don't bother me ( 6th Sep, 2008 )
Today ( 31st Aug, 2008 )
Sun 18th Nov ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Mon 12th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Sun 4th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Sat 3rd ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Fri 2nd ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Thurs 25th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Wed 24th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Tues 23rd ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Sat 27thth ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Mon 22nd ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Sun 21st...ish ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Room 203 - Sat 20th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Tues 16th  ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Mon 15th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
room 203 - Sun 14th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Room 203 – Sat 13th ( 18th Nov, 2007 )
Room 203 – Fri 12th ( 12th Oct, 2007 )
Room 203 – Thurs 11th ( 12th Oct, 2007 )
Room 203 – Wed 10th ( 12th Oct, 2007 )
Room 203 – Tues 9th ( 11th Oct, 2007 )
all over ( 26th Apr, 2007 )
a bike ride and then the beach ( 19th Feb, 2007 )
three ( 21st Nov, 2006 )
Again ( 10th Nov, 2006 )
Week one of two ( 8th Nov, 2006 )

LOLLI
 
Dear Cambodia
[ file under: The War Machine ]


My beloved Cambodia
Gods repeated like flowers
No two quite the same
Clinging to a trilogy of rocks
And in the silence the cash register sound
Of photographs
By foreign hands.

My beloved Cambodia
I sent up a wish for you and it came down
Landed with a limp along the river side
Past the woman crouched, almost folded under the parasol
Eating rice and fish with her hands
Sticking the same hands out, she needs more ...
A small boy tried to catch the wish
And another brought his thonged foot down
Almost crushing
But not quite
And then forced it
Flapping into the cage.

My beloved Cambodia
Out in the street the line of shimmering skirts and nylon suits reach half a block of you.
Bringing up the rear: two young men with giant plucked birds.
A singer glides his voice through every flat.
A man yells into the mic, one, two, good.
Under the tent heat blue and pink bells the shape of girls push for seats.
Boys in matching shirts
the same material as bags
pull the gladwrap off plates of vegetables, slurp up soup.

My beloved Cambodia
I saw you outside the pirate DVD shop
Your shoulder replaced by graze
And the tears down your cheeks
A size only children can muster.
Motorbike? A fall?
You tried to cover your face with your shirt
As your mum dabbed iodine
Into each tiny rip.
Motorbike a fall?
Your brother shook his head.
And your mum dabbed iodine
And stared past you
To another place.

 
Words


My question beads, sliding. Theres a glass of language between us. I cant relax - cant remember if I ever did. Along the road a truck passes, exhausting dirt from its tires. Sitting on the edge of a solid wood chair at the edge of a solid wooden table underneath a blue house, not so solid but original, they assure me, real Khmer, I wasnt allowed to record and now the pen leaks black tracks across the back of a receipt. A bill for the Green House Restaurant: Tofu satay, steam rice, Angkor beer can x 1, soda. On the blank side, another list forms:

Phnom Penh.
I was taken to jail.
My husband and his brother to Kampot. Killed.

Horrible little words. Shoved up against one other in black uniform print. I hunch over them, scrawling. To the side of my vision she leans in to her granddaughter who nods and leans to me. Like a slow game of dominos. She wants to know what youre writing? Under my fingers the receipt transforms. Not just the record of food I cant remember but a ticket. A conduit. To prison, questions, starvation. To horrible, horrible little words. The means through which to take life and force it. While we talk about other things she glares at that receipt, watches as I fold it into my pocket at the end. I dont know what shes thinking but I know. That theres evidence now. That it was said and then it was written and now its being taken away.

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