Tourist Lament

answer to a challenge to use a specific dozen words.

I find I’m often angry at

self-centered, thoughtless tourists that

don’t respect the place they visit

and never ask the questions, “Is it

precious to someone else?”

 

One idiot stood on a stone

and didn’t know his cover was blown

when with his camera he took a shot

of his family in the parking lot

standing in a row.

 

The photo frame will have no sand,

no wharf, and no beach around his band

and when to others this photo he shows

maybe he’ll say that he knows

where it was taken, or not.

 

He enters the bait shop with cash to pay

the flat charge to rent the tools to play

as if fishing is his chosen role

he carries bait, and reel and pole

onto the wharf.

 

A radio is among his toys

and soon I hear the Beach Boys

and their falsetto vocal tones

drown out the surf and shake my bones

to ruin my day.

 

I hoist my gear and dream of the seasons

when few tourist give me the reasons

to feel resentment toward others

that I should think of as my brothers,

but not today.

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

This is the thought of some of us, that have Native Blood.

[TL Boehm]

I liked the ryhme scheme too and the story line. I know sometimes those word lists make a poem awkward, contrived but this one was smooth. Well done.

[Tovli]

very nice--the rhyme scheme was so intereting; great flow! enjoyed. tovli