May 16, 2011 § Leave a comment

One of my most recent short pieces…

Bangkok is written from the ground up
like footprints in broken concrete –
in blackened gum on the pavements,
in the fish dribble of melted ice, pork fat and exhaust fumes,
indelibly marked on the faces
of the people who call this their home – the street
with all its waves and odours of humanity.
The tiny crumpled tissue paper and toothpick woman
and the melted man with half a face formed in fire.
Countless numbers gaining their bread
through what they have lost.

I walk through it all a privileged man
humbled by their dignity and tenacity to life,
singing their songs,
selling their wares,
illumined brightly in dim trades.

Written where the workers fiery breath
has stripped all the paint off the tables.



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