last hour in an old country

sad and sleepy people
eating cornflakes outside closed cafes where
white chairs are upturned on tables like taxidermic animals
blue electric mosquito light killer buzzing
is this breakfast?
I smell no coffee roast or toast
papayas without taste
butter, cheap and pasty but
at least the milk is ice cold.
 
on the streets, the smell of shit is thick from back alleys
homeless taking dumps behind dumpsters
pot holes with water the colour of milk tea
 
potent cigarettes needed
 
shop counter cluttered with short coin towers
cashier counts loot as the limping man waits
I do not see a beggars cup
potent cigarettes purchased.
 
holiday keeps the roads clear
no bustling mid morning anger stuck in jams
but the lanes are closed as
lone runners in bright green vestments
walk to catch their breaths
 
the taxi man keeps cursing slow drivers
I do not ask for change
 
there’s a hole in my pants I did not notice before
the hotel lobby is expensive but the tea and milk is watered down
 
I stand in the sun, with a nicotine headache,
carrying lobster crackers as my stomach is full of
chicken lungs and the heart longs for old time jungles
 
#dailypoetry #irvingpaulpereira
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