Fireworks explode over the Mekong.
The restaurant balcony is a pop-eyed gecko damp with pity.
a second Angkor Beer each.
The Khmer puts on his glasses, continuously.
Mind wanders between this world
and the world.
Tonight, the baffled city soothes
itself with curious costumed dancers.
The American doctor’s heart grasps for
forgetting and some kind of god
which is like someone
wearing a mask
and holding the shatters
in gloved hands.