Tourists on Display

So many of them are tall
these tourists, taller on top of jeeps
arms spread aimlessly to the wind,
no chance to touch the heat of day.
Look at them, so free, these naked leaders
shining incandescent light on our funds
they see all to be had in the waves
like the eyes of our children,
what a view, so full eating from our
fingers, the organ that will never
remember birth. even in the morning
these visitors dance
when the birds sing above their heads.
What privilege to embody joy!
The old man says, “Dance, dance more, Englishwoman.
They will build roads.”
Maybe they will buy a trinket,
a shawl, another room, the mind of a child.
That little one knows what is golden.
Freedom to spend on the other side of the sea.

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