PANHANDLING IN ALMATY
Used to think I was street smart till a couple of years ago
Touring in Almaty*, strolling the street, looking western, you know.
Young guy comes up to me and shows me a large bill and asks for small change.
Foreign language….who knew? I got out all my coins and offered to exchange:
He took them all politely. He walked slowly to another tourist and then
Politely did exactly the same thing again.
I’d never seen this con, asking for small change - misleadingly simple ruse -
But not in exchange for his large bill : gambling that tourists he would confuse.
I reckoned his income was greater than mine, maybe 50 000 bucks a year.
Panhandling in Almaty makes a profit big and clear.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
*Almaty is the largest city in Kazakhstan. The city was formerly
called Alma Ata, and it used to be the Kazakh capital.
I love the castle, I love the river
I love the city, Of Newark
The castle is like a big wall of history, next to the river which is like a massive water
wilderness, in the city of Newark
I love the hills, I love the Devon, love the converted boat in the city of Newark
The hills are like a massive fortress, which is like the river of Devon, in the city of Newark
I love the market I love church
I love the queen of sconce where Oliver Cromwell fired his bullets which hit the church
On September the 1st
Now you see the wonders of Newark, people are like butterfly calm and gentle floating to
and from the city of Newark
won't you come with me on a cruise
to the city where we will see
in a second, i know i won't feel lonely
through the dark of night
sparkled up the city lights
how to fix this heart's in bruise
we'll take our own tickets to a moonlight cruise
if the days won't get any better
this heart just won't get any stronger
i can see people getting insane
just can't let myself living in vain
lonely nights could only be sad memories
need to find a way out, gonna get this over with
just need being in the crowd, having a crazy night
so let's take ourselves a journey under the moonlight
New Orleans
The buildings rise from the horizon in the morning sun,
and the city begins to wake
as the scent of creole-style gumbo
rises from the streets.
In the distance, the Mississippi teems,
alive with a thousand variety of fish
as the steamboats, oil riggers, and
ships move inland.
To the port of New Orleans, children take the ferry
with their parents and wave hello
from the windows of omnibuses
and chat of the weather.
In the daylight, the city traffic creeps at a slow pace
as people rush to and fro,
Taxis honk in the streets as bicycles rush beneath the lights
and along the sidewalks.
Young couples sip cafe lattes at the local coffee shop
as grandmothers and grandfathers take their
grandchildren to the aquarium.
I am a spectator to all these events,
a solemn witness in pen and ink, and
I think there is a commonality
in this walk of life.
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