Dirty Waters

down the slippery sides
of my body, and
from under both arms,
perspiration slides down,
as it attempts to find
a cooler place to dry;
ocean sounds reverberate
and modulate
up and down the sandy coastline
while frolicking tourists
and vacationers pay
absolutely no attention;
no nudity prevails here as
Muslims have warned, but
scantily clad bodies,
showing it off anyway
are seen in abundance,
ignoring the warnings of
prevailing violence;
thousands of shells cover
the ground where feet are
to trod as they enter the water,
and some yell out in pain
when pierced in the skin
and squeals of delight erupt
even louder when water knocks
them down to the ground;
hands-free passengers on
banana boats pass by
offering no solutions but
wave instead
as if to say they
would join us if they could;
the news of the previous day
remains on the phone unread
and no one is enlightened
by all the expressed anger
in the world today as
no one want to
intentionally
ruin their vacation;
hot sand
on the feet
enable no movement
either this way or that as
the mesmerizing movements
of the murky, dirty waters
keeps us all in a trance.

27Jul16