Baby hills broken out in shacks banana Palm frond surrounded
The uneven roads patchy and scratched, road train trodden
But a mile from the port city
Fleck tile buildings lichen coated terracota rooves
Breeze owned by the basin's humid climate
Old bakeries their signs stained and misspelt
Thou the bread would make the mouth melt
Thick jackfruit shrubs encroaching on the sidewalk
Green thick well dressed highway men
Mango's shade the sidewalk
where tired mothers offer their arm bound infants
breasts or bottles to cool and nourish them from the heat
The young pretend to invent themselves again
Following the same hand me down gimmicks
Like lost widows they try to escape themselves
Those drums and those colorful costumes
distract and seduce and flatten the early youth
Shattering their rational thought for the week
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