No Pictures Taken
I see the pictures sent to me on my Facebook page of places
I have not seen yet in countries I have been to as a seaman
who join the sea out of poverty at home and offered
an education no importance and factory pipes spewing smoke
smelling of sardines and cod liver oil
I recall Costa Rica a small town in a bay the jungle appeared
near and lush ready to hide the town should be human activities
stop. And the cockerel crowed as I got up from Maria`s trafficked
bed running down a winding road to the docks and on my ship to
the routine work with sleep-walkers who like me and only saw
the beauty of the land in glimpses of dreams a Paradise lost.
Saddening, there were never any lazy days to walk around and
to take pictures we were not tourists.
Alone in a beautiful park and felt like the eternal wandering Jew
hoping to be accepted by the locals. There was never any time to
know anyone; guiltily I found my way back to the bars, the music,
the Marias willing vulvas` oily route; rum& coke sleep in a woman’s
arms inhale her scent another Paradise lost before the cock crowed.
I look at the pictures of contentment, actors on a stage of life playing
happy to play the tragic roles they need a bit more experience.