This is where knowledge
is taboo
only in dirt does
survival depend
upon un-learning
all you know
whether Confucius
or gravity’s pull
release them to
the atmosphere
never more to
meander here.
This is where language
comes to die
no more to read
Khmer folklore
words are a poison
to kith and kin
every foreign turn
of phrase from
Shakespeare to
Dickens let them
go keep your head
down learn to sow.
Even the peasantry
cannot defend
against the rule
of iron hands
the power of one
is but a leech
feeding on blood
of every crowd
infecting them with
the seed of hate
letting them wither
in unending heat.
Anne's mediocre poetry 