[Sammy]

Did u know, in Southeast Asia, tree barks are a deli***y
properly prepped, the smell is unique. Grounded curry with a light scent of lemon. A squeeze.
Not too much ‘cause the true punch rests in the subtle mix of cayenne and fermented beans

2013, I remember visiting motherland. The local tastes disgusted me
But momma said “it’s the soul, not the recipe”
Ahhhh “soul food”, I get it.
But I’d soon find myself in tune to the pkar roots and mangosteen
Desserts were rice steamed in banana leaves. Fuck a spoon, finger food all day. We like to stay in touch.

The ballad of evening was humdrum. With the occasional overture of forest geese.
They’re noisy. Streets paved and poised in red layers of storied sentiments.
Seventy-five was a far cry; in war you’ll find peace is posthumous.
So we don’t accept Jesus. God exists, to be fair. How else would we harvest fish, right?
Tonight i dine on the Mekong. Four courses and night shade
As motherland serves her soul with brevity and light squeeze of lemon that life gave