We loved Peru; the friendly people, the history, the ruins, the food, the landscape, especially the wild, mountainous terrain around the sacred Valley. But there are large areas of unproductive desert. One cannot help noticing the contrast between luxury hotels and the lifestyle of locals. It was evident that our dollars were crucial for the economy, and, to help those who live in poverty.
Pisco Sour is a delicious Peruvian drink. In this poem, I’ve used it for purposes of irony. (Didn’t want double spacing but can’t change it)
luxury hotel
behind high wall
citron coriander and vanilla cream
pampers plump bodies
soft towels twin TVS wi fi sofas
king size beds deluxe shower caps
pacific breeze pina coladas
plastic sun chairs around the pool
waiters hover
pisco sour
ailing peruvian landscape
it never rains
no shining path
beside the dusty road
shanty towns derelict bleak
piles of sand broken bricks rubble
a few trees planted
to stop the dispossessed
building makeshift homes
the hidden poor
await the water cart
twice weekly
those who can pay
