khao san road


The pill-popped neon fries a brain on the hour
Every hour, so not a day goes by
While the city’s shackled to a sense of ancient wisdom
In which the body’s a vessel; its degradation’s a lesson
Taught from roadside hawker stalls
Carried over in extortionate screams and ill-fitting balls
Beside the river: at our feet, and still rising
To a masochistic challenge of wills
Bearing newborn testaments to inexpensive fast food
Frittered away, shovelled in, left to rot
Under the noses of stuck-up stray dogs
Skipping in and out of tax-exempt vehicles
In their dreams, baring false teeth
In truth and kindness, in sight of transparent blindness
Looking to the bridge, boasting such strength
As it carries sober souls
To the other side, and back.

khao san road 2



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One comment on “TRAVELLER’S GHETTO

  1. Love the stuck up dogs.