Tangiers
Tangiers
By Annmarie Lockhart
“Passports,” barked the man with the gun,
The only working man in the city.
The rest all lounged and talked and smoked,
And eyed the blanketed women laden like mules,
Scurrying silently in the sun.
Alien port, madness in a market.
Men with no eyes,
Men with no legs,
Men with no arms,
Men missing all of that,
Mysteriously sensed the American tourists,
Magically reappeared in multiple doorways,
Mawing “Muhammed Ali.” As if.
Beggars clamoring at the literal gate,
Hands grasping for “Dollar, lady!”
Americans shown into a dark room with piles of rugs,
Heaps of brass, and billions of baubles.
We are, it seems, addicted not only to poppy,
But to anything shiny and cheap and useless
That calls to mind sultan or swami.
Passports still held by the guy with the gun.
By Annmarie Lockhart
“Passports,” barked the man with the gun,
The only working man in the city.
The rest all lounged and talked and smoked,
And eyed the blanketed women laden like mules,
Scurrying silently in the sun.
Alien port, madness in a market.
Men with no eyes,
Men with no legs,
Men with no arms,
Men missing all of that,
Mysteriously sensed the American tourists,
Magically reappeared in multiple doorways,
Mawing “Muhammed Ali.” As if.
Beggars clamoring at the literal gate,
Hands grasping for “Dollar, lady!”
Americans shown into a dark room with piles of rugs,
Heaps of brass, and billions of baubles.
We are, it seems, addicted not only to poppy,
But to anything shiny and cheap and useless
That calls to mind sultan or swami.
Passports still held by the guy with the gun.
Posted by Annmarie at 5/30/2009 10:16 PM 
Categories: today's words, vox poetica originals
Tags: Annmarie Lockhart free verse
Categories: today's words, vox poetica originals
Tags: Annmarie Lockhart free verse
Wow! Bloody terrific writing Annmarie. I could almost see the glint in their eyes and feel the oppressive atmosphere.
These lines:
We are, it seems, addicted not only to poppy,
But to anything shiny and cheap and useless
That calls to mind sultan or swami.
Passports still held by the guy with the gun.
Are phenomenal. I'm absolutely tickled that Amy sent me here, to a diamond mine.
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Big thanks to Amy for sending you here, Val!
Looking forward to your contributions to the vox poetica community!
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Now that I read Tangiers I realized that it is an awesome poem.
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Thank you for your feedback!
And welcome to the vox poetica community!
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Annmarie, I just found this gem of yours. Timing! I have recently returned from a free (to me) cruise that included Honduras where a military coup had taken place. We were met by guerillas with what may have been Kalankikovs who directed us with their rifles to stalls with badly-made items of bits of cloth and straw and shiny things from unknown places.
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The horrors of troubled soil are most definitely shown here. You had me there and I wanted to run.
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