Tampines Ave 2, 11.35 p.m

Sometimes you work some ungodly OT hours and you are hoping not to miss the last bus home...

photo by dsnake1



Tampines Ave 2, 11.35 p.m.


in the rain
the city walls
shuddered
with the sudden cold

the last
of the late night
stragglers
huddled at bus shelters

caught out
in the storm that
hammered
the sidewalks the trees

and jerky
vehicle headlights
skidded off
the glassy wet asphalt

on store fronts
limp banner ads
fluttered
in total surrender

as traffic lights
blinking angrily
protesting
their cyclops eyes mad

at the rain
and the wind's
brazen
intent to claim the night.



written 28/11/2010
revised 24/10/2011
****************

The prompt at Poets and Storytellers United this week is to write something "inspired by the idea of storms, literal or metaphorical". How convenient to have one sitting in my hard disk. :)

---

"There is peace even in the storm"

- Vincent van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

a point in your life

This was written for a NaPoWriMo day.It has been posted on this blog before.

No, it has gathered many comments before. I am reposting it because I think it is a good look at ageing.

photo by dsnake1



a point in your life


so you come to a point in your life,
you feel cold, you feel old, booze
no longer excites, instead it plays punk
with your sphincters, the doctor sees you
and no longer asks what is bugging you
but tells you to keep off the oily stuff.

you watch weeds grow and wonder who
or which is more unwanted, the streets
growl at you and fumes and dust gets into
your eyes and coffee, children look at you
in fright and not merely because of your stubble,
and you don't rage anymore.

and so the best exercise you had in days
is to turn your head to watch that woman
in the short shorts walks by in the sidewalk
her full hips moving with a beat that
nearly stops your heart.

you watch the sun sets over the highrises
at the quay, someone mentions a drunk had
drowned in the river a couple of days back,
just a few paces where you sat, the day gets more
unsettling as a crow caws and tugs at a roadkill and
you fear your number may be up.



Written 06/04/2013
Revised 27/09/2024
****************


Each stanza is a one sentence poem, and I am wondering if each stanza can exist as a stand-alone mini poem by itself. 😁

image by dsnake1
generated by a game console with Soul Calibur V

---

With age comes some wisdom. And a lot more pills. - dsnake1

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ), 2025

our universe

This was an entry for an international haibun contest in 2018. No, this haibun didn't win anything. I thought it was pretty well written and would like to share it again here. On hindsight, I think there was no seasonal word in the haiku part of the poem.

photo by Paulina Milde Jachowska at Unsplash


our universe


After we have packed our hammers and saws and nails in the toolshed, and our daily wages have been tallied and registered by our foreman, we gather outside the doorway for a final smoke. Someone lights some incense to the earth god, giving thanks for another safe day. Another feeds the black guard dog, stroking its beastly head as it eats hungrily from a dirty dish.

It is mostly like this, the end of another day, the smell of sawn wood still clinging to us like a scab. Sometimes we drink some tea, over a stove fire, like our forefathers did, building railroads and harbours in America and Hong Kong, half a lifetime away from home. The red glows of our cigarette tips flare, taunting the stars that are coming out in the gathering darkness, over the bulky silhouettes of the unfinished buildings behind us.

We stub out our cigarettes, grunt some goodbyes and jibes, and start our trucks and motor bikes, for the journey home, the tires churning out a cloud of dust on the unpaved roads. Tomorrow we will be here again, the dog's barks, loud in the early light blues of our universe.

dusk descends
the cirrus clouds sing
of a flat earth



13/01/2018
**********

---

Huang Jia Mei (黄家美) -- 爱拼才会赢

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2025

the pigeon minding its business

There is an informal understanding that we will ignore each other...

photo by dsnake1



the pigeon minding its business


the pigeon quietly waddles away
when I step on the sidewalk.
it is just minding its own business.
it does not want to look at me.
it is wary,
that i may wring its neck
or wrap a cable tie around its leg.

i will not do that of course.
i am too minding my own business.
i am just thinking of
what numbers to buy
for tonight's $10 million TOTO draw.
it will think of food, not numbers.
i will think of numbers, and food.

i reach for a betting slip, and hope.
it pecks at a grain of rice in the grass.



12/06/2024
**********


TOTO is a lot like Lotto. You know, the lottery. :)

---

"Do you ever ask your goldfish for their views on goldfish poetry or politics. Does a termite thinks that a woman's place is in the house? Do beavers prefer blondes or brunettes?"

-- Robert Heinlein, Goldfish Bowl

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2024

blursday

Blursday : n. a day of the week that is indistinguishable from any other.

I am sure the word was a prompt from one of the issues of Poets & Storytellers United. Just can't remember which date.

digital montage by dsnake1 with GIMP



blursday (7th apr to 1st june 2020)


1.
Thank god the internet is alive and well.
And Netflix.

The social media videos start to arrive.
They hiss like little forked tongues.

7.
The rebels arrive. A man with full body tattoos striped down to his underwear and strutted around the town neighbourhood waving his pants. Cops tried to tackle him. They had a hard time bringing him down. He was a good rugby player.

11.
spring cleaning -
our little histories.

17.
A nice dinner of stir fried cabbage with dried shrimps and fried pork collar with chillies helps a ton. Everybody loves it.

20.
More social videos : elderly lady is unleashing a whole range of vulgarities at two cops when confronted for not wearing a mask. The two cops are hesitant to tackle the lady. They know the internet is watching. Eagerly watching.

Some people are slipping into a rabbit hole.

22.
Thank god for youtube. There's a Japanese all-girl rock band that's driving the internet (and me) crazy.

23.
cherry blossoms -
looking at my photographs
of Japan

24.
Two blackbirds perch on my air-con unit and debate the pandemic.

25.
rain
///
the silence
in the house

27.
Tried fried udon with minced meat and everybody loves it.
Home-cooked pasta with meat sauce and everybody loves it.
Perhaps i can think about a career change.

28.
A dinner of yam rice with chinese sausages. Very basic.
But everybody loves it
Hmm, about that career change...

35.
overcast skies -
looking at your old photographs
                          again

40.
another morning
counting the meds
counting the videos

43.
nicked finger -

red fish gills
in a white sink

47.
a scent of lilac your floral blouse

50?
Home stretch.
Start counting the number of brands of beer i have drunk. Give up after the 11th and start rummaging in the fridge for one. Any brand.

56.
The end of blursdays
What day is today?

The family wants me to cook dinner.

(@.@)


318 words


written in response to a prompt
revised 06/12/2022
revised 02/07/2023
***************

---

BAND-MAID - Daydreaming

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

breakfast talk

Too many choices may not be a good thing...

photo by dsnake1



breakfast talk


it's a good morning
i say let's walk to
the market for breakfast
i want that yong tau foo

     walk, seriously?
     let's take the bus
     it's too hot today
     we still have choices

have you seen the news
today? Kabul fell
that's far away for you
some place called Afganistan

     wait, there's an eatery
     with the same name nearby
     crispy prata, sweet tea
     but i don't fancy curry now

the people there maybe
don't even have a choice
for breakfast or transport
and you talking about the weather

     yo just throw on some
     shorts & tees and slippers
     come on i take that long walk
     i won't be mad, promise



23/09/2021
**********

Magaly at Poets and Storytellers United would like us to write poetry or prose that includes dialogue. Food is one of the things that gets us talking.

---

Take some time and think about food waste.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

dark side of the moon #12

Don't read this before lunch...

photo by Bruce Tang at Unsplash



dark side of the moon #12


“I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times.”
-Psycho, by Robert Bloch


Oh honey, I am home. But you are not eating well these past two days. Hardly ate anything. Or said anything. Just sat there on the sofa watching TV. Old people like us don't eat much, I know, but still one must eat. I bought some fish soup today. The one from your favourite stall. Yes, I met our neighbour Mrs. Lim from the next unit just now, she complained to me of a smell from our house. Said she will call the police if I don't fix it. Fix what? Just our unwashed dishes. Let me keep this can of insect spray, there's a lot of flies and mites lately, and then I will get your food. Here, let me get a clean bowl.


17/10/2022
**********

Magaly at Poets and Storytellers United invites us to write poetry or prose inspired by some scary quotes. I chose one from Psycho.

---

"The Department of Statistics estimates that 83,000 elderly persons will be living alone by 2030, compared with the 47,000 seniors aged 65 and above in 2016."

- The Pride, Am I my neighbour’s keeper? The tragedy of those who die alone

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

poetry lesson #13

Life is about choices, and sometimes we slip into a hole...

photo by BSD at Unsplash


poetry lesson #13


you begin by thinking that nothing
can kill you.
you forgot that you can be brittle
like a glass bottle
that you sometimes pick up in fights.

you look like someone's good brother
kind and polite.
but one day the cops come, SWAT and all
in your bag they find
an axe and loot from the goldsmith's heist.

you end up in an cold, empty apartment
on the run.
edgy, one sweaty hand on the kukri,
an outside cough
makes you run behind the locked door.

does it sounds like someone you know?
write a poem on that.


27/04/2022
**********

---

“Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, and devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.”

― Neal Stephenson

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

the problem is money

it always is, isn't it?

photo of a wall mural by dsnake1



the problem is money


you think sleeping on it
it will go away?
what are the chances of
one striking the lottery?
and then losing it
the next day.
or shall we wait
like withered flowers
in a vase?
that's very unlike you
bringing it up
a couple of parang hacks
will do the trick?
come on, let's get a beer
while we are still breathing
how long can you live
staying in cheap dorms?
the problem is money
yeah
and that freighter to taiwan
too
one day a lady in red
will sell you out
for some coins
when you are having
your morning coffee.


12/05/2021
**********



Does this looks like a character out of a TV show? No, it is partly based on some real life gunmen and gangsters.

---

The problem is no one plays the difficulty.

*
from “Three Problems” by Noah Eli Gordon

I was inspired by the lines from the above poem. This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in criminal ways.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

The Comet

Back in 1986, when Halley's Comet shot past the Earth, a newspaper organised a poetry writing contest to commemorate the event. The first prize was a telescope (a Baush & Lomb Cassegrain reflector), which I thought was cool at that time. Hey, the poem that I wrote won that scope. Tell me that it's good. 😁

photo by dsnake1 (that's the telescope I won)




The Comet


Like clockwork, you returned from an endless celestial journey
           Halley
And we, on this fragile planet, itself hurtling,
we wonder, we dread, we marvel

what you really are, a heart of ice, gas and dust?
           Ha!
Did tyranosaurus rex snarl at you on a visit to primeval Earth?
Or were you making your pilgrimage since the Sun's birth?

       Did you bring about Hastings?
       Did you fell the Qing?

And we, with our computers, our lasers, still call you a stranger,
           Wanderer.
Like a puzzle, you fascinate us, the ancient and the young.
You'll still do, in Twenty-sixty-one.



18.04.1986
**********

Maybe twice in a lifetime

---

Scientific American - Halley's Comet changed humanity. This is how.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

photo#1975

“Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door."

― Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

photo by The British Museum at Unsplash



photo#1975


what fishes?
there are no fishes

the big boys with the nets
have trawled them

and what remains
are miserly opportunities

that are slipping by
slippery beyond grasp

me, i get by
with small fry.


undated. prob. 80's
***************

Found this old piece in an old (read angry) journal, sighed, and let it loose on the internet.

Rosemary at Poets and Storytellers United tells us "to bear witness to these times we are living in, and how it feels to be living in them." I am posting one that is not about these present times but about a certain year, and a rather pivotal one.

---

The Vietnam War ends with the fall of Saigon. One of the lasting images of the war is that of a helicopter lifting off from the roof of the American Embassy, evacuating. Over in nearby Cambodia, the Communist Khmer Rouge had captured Phnom Penh earlier and begins a genocide of anyone who looks smart. In the space of slightly more than two weeks, US President Gerald Ford survives two assassination attempts by two women wielding handguns, both times in California. Perhaps the girls have been in the sun for too long. Bill Gates and Paul Allen founded Microsoft and Jaws opens in cinemas, frightening us off the summer beaches. Back home, amendments to the law are made to introduce the mandatory death penalty for some drug trafficking cases, and the Area Licensing Scheme is launched in a bid to control traffic into the city core, the world's first such scheme. And I complete my conscription service in the army. All these in 1975.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

longing

Losing someone you loved dearly will break your heart, but they will live always in that broken heart.

pencil sketch by dsnake1


longing


We were night owls. We worked hard, partied hard after dark. We pub crawled, we drank. We loved the booming bass lines of live bands, the husky, sultry serenades of sexy songbirds. We loved bright shirts, loud colours, and sometimes we weren't sure which smell was stronger on our polyester, the cologne or the alcohol.

But above all, above us, we loved watching the stars. I tried to tell her that stars are just balls of fire, tried to explain to her about light years and the doppler effect and such. It's not very romantic. And she just smiled. To her, the stars are just jewels in the sky, mysteries not to be solved. So I just tried to point out to her, the Dog Star, the Big Dipper, and the stories behind the names, with what limited knowledge of the stars that I had. We would sit at the breakwaters, the piers, at the esplanade, the beaches, or the benches of city parks, looking up, sometimes her head on my shoulders.

But no more. She passed on, you see, a star herself, snuffed out. Is there a star less then? I can't tell, there are too many. Maybe the stars mirror us. A star extinguishes, someone loses a loved one. Maybe there are other star-crossed lovers like us, over the dark expanses, looking up at their night skies. Maybe there are wars being fought out there. Maybe the light I saw, was us a lifetime before.

if i could pluck the stars
put them in a jar
will you come back to me?


11/04/2013
**********

---

Drop's - 月光 [moonlight]

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

a coming of age

Magaly Guerrero at Poets and Storytellers United wanted us to " take a poem or story you wrote many years ago (preferably, one that wasn’t exactly awesome), and rewrite it."

So I took out some old journals with yellowed and crumpling pages, picked a less offensive "poem", sat down, did some cutting and adding to this 44 year-old work, and hey, here it is...

photo by dsnake1

The original -

A coming of age


Like aging cognac
I seem to have matured
Or at least I have thought I have been.
To have waded through the tide
Of uncertainty
Of the 60's and early 70's
Stumbling and drenched
With the foam and spray of confusion
And battered by the waves of failure.
Now I stand on a beach,
The deep sea,
And the flotsams of disaster behind me.
And like a new-born child
I have sandcastles to build...


20/07/1978
**********

The rewrite -

a coming of age


We see the sea, raging, and we wade into it.
We are youths then, we thought we could not die,
Not the reckless 70's, not rock music, arcade games.

We have our heroes and they carry knives or guitars.
Later we dig foxholes and wait for the enemy to come.
The enemy is Time, endless as hell, and his ally Age.

We see dreams fade like a mist, our pockets empty.
Good friends die or walk away and failure throws us
Like cigarette butts and spittle by the wayside.

Now I stand on a beach, the gulls lifting off the pier,
The deep sea, and the flotsams of disaster behind me.
And like a new born child I have sandcastles to build.


06/05/2022
**********


I think the rewrite is more 'visual' in a way, and the original suffers much from clichés. Also, it has been cleaned up in a format for easier reading. Which do you, dear reader, prefer, the original or the rewrite? 😃

---

Heart - Stairway to Heaven Led Zeppelin - Kennedy Center Honors

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2022

At the National Gallery Singapore #2

When COVID-19 restrictions were lifted for libraries and museums, I went to visit the National Gallery Singapore recently. An art museum that opened on November 2015 and located in the Downtown Core of Singapore, it oversees the world's largest public collection of modern Singapore and Southeast Asian art, consisting of about 9,000 artworks.

This was the third time back but there is always never enough time to see them all. I only went to one exhibition there, titled, Something New Must Turn Up: Six Singaporean Artists After 1965. And yes, some of the artworks inspired me to write some poetry on them.

I did a series and they are over at my other blog, i write too. I have chosen a few to showcase here.

If you want to see the whole lot, 7 of them, please click this link.


At the National Gallery Singapore #2


#11

photo by dsnake1


love poem on the 7th day of the 7th month

the moon
sliding onto
a tall branch
is trying
to get into your room


14/08/2021
**********

----------

#13

photo by dsnake1


checker board of fields under the sun


looking out of the train
at the rice fields of Japan.

oh, just a dream...


24/09/2021
**********

----------

#17

photo by dsnake1


when insomnia whispers into your ears


let the night die for a moment
hear the whirl of the ceiling fan
let the air run over your sweat
like snakes slithering on sand.


18/09/2021
**********

---

"...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”

-- Vincent van Gogh

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

an oasis in a desert of ennui

pick an ace, man, pick an ace...

photo by mrganso  at pixabay



an oasis in a desert of ennui


as i am sitting in this bar waiting for the world to end
a gecko is crawling on the opposite wall
checking out the posters of happy people drinking beer.

if you are thinking of pretty girls look for another joint
there are just us, a dozen or so of ugly slobs
that people want to punch and cops like to pull in.

there's really nothing much we can do, a desert of ennui
lift some bottles, light a fag, people die in wars
and accidents and that gecko would still be on the wall.

the bar-keep stares at me, looks at my army crew cut,
goes pour himself a drink, he probably
has a parang under the counter to ward off evil.

i stub out the cigarette, drink the last of the beer,
the last bus to my camp is due soon, can't miss it,
though the bus-stop is conveniently outside

i wave a salute to the barkeep, the fucker smiles,
as i push out the old-west saloon doors,
and walk out to a loud, unforgiving night.


07/01/2021
**********

---

Pink Floyd - Have A Cigar

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

Tai Seng

He sat across from me. He said, "I will bury him." I thought, this guy is very unhappy and crazy. "Look, let's have another beer and I will take you home. Where do you live?". "Tai Seng", he said.

photo by Darius Bashar at Unsplash



Tai Seng



talking about
                 Tai seng
when we were watching Hard Boiled on the CD
you know, you can wander into that place
and never come out again.

taking another
                 swig of vodka
she in her teddies just bored
i have been there a couple of times, told her
the guys there are quite friendly

once i went there
                 to play cards
and when i left one of the guys
lifted a zinc sheet off the wall and outside
was a tiny alleyway with cut steps

just follow it
                 to the bus stop
just so casual, like old friends
the other time we went there to get grass
we found out what a labyrinth means

the dealer took us
                 left and right
we went through someone's house
the people didn't bat an eyelid, just nodded
like it was another day in the office

her silk dudou
                 a distraction
on the screen Chow Yuen Fatt
was shooting up the gangsters in the teahouse.
but i didn't seem to hear the gunfire

this probably is not a good time to talk about
                 Tai Seng


03/08/2020
**********


Ask any old-timer where are the most dangerous 'hoods on the island in the 70's and they will rattle off names like Tai Seng, The Gasworks, Geylang and Redhill. And in most lists will be Tai Seng.

---

Band-Maid - Thrill (スリル)

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

Lavender Street, early 60's

The name is a misnomer.

pencil sketch by dsnake1



Lavender Street
early 60's


i have no idea where the bus
ends its jouney this side of town
but i know the other end because
it leads me to my school
but every morning in the pre dawn
my father would accompany me
cross the road and wait at the bus stop
for the number 11 bus to arrive.

this is not a reputable piece of town
known for its knife fights and such
so my dad tags along for he is stocky
and muscular so no one would want
to mess with me or the tank,
but he lets me carry my heavy school bag.
i suppose he keeps his hands free,
you know, just in case.

we wait in the semi darkness of the bus shelter
sometimes he lights a cigarette
maybe it is the long wait,
or the wind was right that morning
blowing the smell of decaying logs
from the sawmills and clogged rivers
just behind the rust-eaten metal bus stop.

i would not be thinking of school

i would be thinking about the temple just down the road
a temple with an idol of a wooden horse, life size,
black with soot from the daily incense
its body and neck plastered thick with gold paper
i wonder what the devotees were praying for.

and the bus would come, clunking, wheezing.
my dad would bundle me up the thing
leave without a word or a wave
as he prepares for his work day
and the first sun rays of the day
bursting over the tanks of the gasworks
lights the town with fingers of gold.


written 06/01/2015
revised 27/05/2019
***************

---

U2 - Where The Streets Have No Name

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

guns

When I was a child living in the inner city, my parents or my uncle would take us kids to an amusement park near our home. In the early days before tv or the super malls, these parks were the go-to spots of entertainment for the masses. Besides the usual ferris wheels, carousels, and bumper cars were the game stalls and joget dance halls. There were also the gun stalls where there was always a small crowd watching. Perhaps the sound of splintering glass attracts or they just liked to see a shooter fails.

image by dsnake1



guns


1962

      i wanted to try
      but i have no money
      and the gun was probably
      too heavy
      so i just watched
      as the stall lady
      pulled the lever
      of the air gun
      handed the weapon
      to a shooter
      all the while
      a lit cigarette
      dangling in her mouth
      that inch of ash
      strangely not falling
      and the shooter
      was taking his time
      undecided on his targets
      beer bottles light bulbs
      metal yellow ducks

      up above a full moon
      scattered its light
      on the fairground


1972

      i wanted to get this
      over as soon as possible
      the air was too hot
      the steel helmet too heavy
      so i just watched
      the target in front of me
      a wooden board with
      a poster of a soldier
      and as we shooters
      lay prone in the dust
      eyes peering through gun sights
      the detail sergeant
      on the bullhorn growled
      the order to fire
      and as i pulled back
      the charging handle
      of the M16
      heard the bolt clicked
      i was thinking of
      beer bottles light bulbs
      metal yellow ducks

      up above a blazing sun
      fired its rays
      on the rifle range


written on 28/05/2012
minor edit 25/02/2021
******************


This poem was published here on this blog before. Little eyeballs. Here we go again.

---

Daryl Hall & John Oates - Screaming Through December

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

these trains

riding the trains before smartphones took over the world...

Commonwealth MRT Station, Singapore
photo by dsnake1


these trains


i ride
     these trains
         quiet rage
             looking at tunnel walls
                               dark walls
                    roaring past
separated by a metal door
try
   reading newspapers
          the previous day's wars
                       football games
          to pass the time
    else i sleep
            standing
            holding onto grab poles
                                           in
                this heaving beast's
     metal belly
as metal wheels
             grind
                 on tortured tracks
i am thinking of the wasted day in the office
as departing station
           after station
                   the recorded audio reminding
                  DOORS CLOSING !!
          the time seems
to have stood

still

still
     these dark walls
      darkly rage by
      se parated only
      by a metal door


written 13.05.1998
revised 25.02.2021
****************

---

BAND-MAID - Alone

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

old stamps of america

I used to collect stamps. Maybe the first presents I received when I was a kid was a stamp album and some stamps. Later on, I narrowed my focus and collected only American stamps. The good old U.S.A. Don't ask me why. Perhaps the stamps are of a uniform size, making it easy to display in an album. I no longer collect stamps now, but the old albums are still with me.

photo by dsnake1


old stamps of america


i used to chase them down
like a bounty hunter
in decrepit old malls
dimly lit shops

from the elderly man
spreading out his wares
on a plastic sheet at Thieves' Market.

tracked them down
like a bloodhound
then locked them up
in made-in-china albums.

i have them all, the flags,
the battles, the presidents,
air mails, space missions, native arts.

amerika! amerika!
i know more about you
than my own country.
it is a strange hobby.

i could go chase skirts
write poetry, get into trouble
but gone crazy over stamp collecting!


written : early 1990's
revised : dec 2013
****************

---

Simon & Garfunkel - America

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021