People dance
In the city center
With the romance of it all
The piss warm bath water
In black marble bathrooms
Tub full go bath salts
Where the only flavor
Many see
Is poverty
And the ambiance
(Is that what people really think)
Lends an air
unreality
Of roughing it
Like
The reality they don’t see
But the reality is
It isn’t roughing it
This
Is
Just
A little too real
Wading through plastic bags
Coconut peels
And the whatnot
Washed together by the rain
Watching two men
Side by side
Yet not
Brothers only in
This most basic necessity
Pissing
On a plywood wall
How can anyone pee that long
This is their reality
Wet and stale
Mingle
With the dried fruit
Beans and rice
And exotic
(For me at least)
Spices
Bodies
Dank beneath rain gear
Pressed close
In the market
Buy my wares
By my wears
The romance
Thin at the thickest veneer
Peels beneath
The lightest touch
This is the reality
One block east
Of the city center
Where their reality
Blends
Into
The romance of it all