There once was an old monk from Phnom Penh who'd been freed from the who, where, and when. Knowing only now - no Self, anyhow. There was no monk and, perhaps, no Phnom Penh.
There was an old woman from Phnom Penh who liked to canoe now and again, but boating Tonlé Sap -- despite compass and map -- she'd forget which way it flowed, now-and-then.
[Note: The Tonlé Sap is one of the few rivers in the world that changes its flow each year due to the rainy season surge. (As opposed to owing to daily tidal surges — which are more common.)]