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