Peter Lewis Holmes Poet Free verse

The Road Into Hoi An Part 2

And the road, the road, is blue and grey,
with sounds and sounds and a new deal
every day, and every way you can think of , 
which shudders the big blue, the big grey 
buildings of plaster and bare, bare brick and
nonsense, no sense electrical, theatrical buzzing
flashing market, stalls;

And you weave you weave, you have to in the 
mesmeric, rhetoric of the heavy, levy, worse on 
sunday, black, red and plastic blue, gassed up,
metered, skipping, gripping, ripping motor biking
traffic from hell; from now; from anywhere:

and the harsh, kitsch sounds and painted boards
send you up the  hill, and into the thousand-shop
main street ; the biggest shopping street  in the ,
”where you from,  what you looking for?”  
hairy, scary, repairing, crazy, bucolic, alcoholic,
in your face, in your place, no disgrace,  screwy,  all day ,
crazy, throbbing, bobbing, jobbing, whirling, curling
Hoi An crazy world.

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Viv Wigley February 22, 2015 at 1:41 PM I wondered how you'd tackle the challenge of a sequel, Peter- and, in contrast to the gentle allure of the countryside, with it's feminine wiles, you've plunged us readers into the chaos of urban Vietnam. Your lines almost jump off the screen with the 'honk! honk!' and vocal madness, and buffaloes wandering on street corners. Very atmospheric. I'm off to the airport- where's my ticket?