The Market Place
I have been trying to pen this verse for the past two weeks but
Someone was standing in my way and my mind went astray
Can’t you see that it is a brand new day?
Winter has subsided and spring has just rolled in
You play with the stock you play with the crop
And you gamble with food that you have not got
Your aged old dream has sent many downstream
It has spilt innocent blood, cast many in prison and
destroyed good homes and beautiful families
There is no gold lining your drugs infested streets
and everyone is feeling the heat
Brown stone buildings are still grinning in Brooklyn and the Bronx,
In East village and upper Manhattan many people still speak Latin
Match box skyscrapers are shooting in the air and water is running everywhere
You have sold this dream for decades, kidnapping the innocent man
Trapping and deceiving the learned, and unlearned as well as your very own
You uproot the rich and the poor from their prosperous land
Beguiling them to go to your drugs paradise land
They have spent all that they have got
Then your citizens force them to become thieves and murderers
The tug of war is about to begin and the dragon is set loose
To set your produce on fire and make way for new hires
A ton of turkey for a kilogram of rice and a bag of barley
For a rolling dice, nothing is free everything has a price
And many have made that painful sacrifice
I walked around the market place searching for a comfortable base
To appease my appetite and bring everything to light
I parked my bicycle under a tree outside the market
And all of sudden a little old woman start grinning in my face
She squatted on a stool with broad leafy vegetable
Spread out on a cloth on the ground in front of her
Her slender frail body swings to and fro
Shouting out at the people as they go
Juicy green vegetable two Yuan a pound
Come buy my home grown vegetables
She rolled out her little money bag
Counting up her hard earned cash
With just few leaves left on the ground
extra luck landed in her lap
someone bought all that was left on the ground
She was just in time to sell everything
before the market man come pestering
People gather outside the market place
That’s where the rumble and the tumble take place
Fresh vegetable, insect punctured vegetable
Carrots, tomato and eggplants, broccoli, cauliflower
And cucumber, lettuces, string beans and pumpkin
Were right on spot for the late evening barging
Old meat dumped in refrigerator and fresh meat spread out on top
Deceiving customers and busy shoppers
Fish that has been stored up for four decades
Unearthed and wiggle on top of the big old ice box
The women had everything laid out in their laps
Big fish as broad as my chest filled the tanks around me
Pulling the busy shoppers towards me.
People gathered on the street side
People packed inside, big bull head rolling in,
beef, mutton, and fish packed the stalls waiting for the special ball
Chicken, rabbits and the roster laid flat on tables
with their intestine plucked from their guts amid the evening rush
The doves were waiting in a cage
waiting for a breakthrough
They pecked the cage with their beaks
but the knife was already sharpened
I stood there watching everything unfold
The market place can be rather cold
Urine smell, garbage smell
and types of smells circulate the atmosphere
Chatter and laughter burst out in the air
and shouting and screaming echoed far and near
Everyone talked over each other
trying to sell their goods in the neighborhoods
The potato leaves were selling too
they provide great nourishment for me and you
Chicken eggs, duck eggs, turkey eggs and pigeons eggs
bundle up in crates looking at the people standing at the gate
The market bosses scrolled up on their big motor bikes
and rush the old women from the street side
and forced them to find a spot inside
No respect, no comprised, their rudeness caused me to groan inside
The market is a hard place to sell you have to study the pattern
Or you will fall in the fire and go to hell
Everyone is trying to be smart and deception is right at the heart
So load up your shopping cart before you start.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2018
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