Carcanet Press Ltd, 2013 PB, 80pp, £8.96 978-1847771438
Base matter
In Wanam there was the one river the
colour of anthracite
and a smell straight out of the pickled-egg
jar,
a warren of shops, gangways and a pub (the
sign read ‘Pap’)
with its two waria owners offering sugary
refreshment
and a mind-blow. The whole yawning village
rested on planks above the sludge, with
ropes and ladders
descending to where the boats were
tethered,
one marked ‘Bintang Laut’ and the other
‘Polisi’.
This was a town subdued to its elements,
and they were one, and it was without
radiance, being toxic.
Every fish in the sea seemed to be in the
Chinese processing plant
back of town, ready …