Pause For Poetry:
Michael Hawkes /88

Tourists

February 24, 2025

A poem by Michael Hawkes

Those hard-to-please tourists with petulant eyes
who worry about the funds they’ve spent
then, hungering for the next surprise
invariably miss the main event.

Those intrepid tourists with tied Tilley hats,
with neighbourly neighbours who mind their cats
who venture to the farthest lands
to converse expressively with their hands.

The tiresome tourist with digital eyes
who seems to seek the impoverished truths,
who’s up to date camera never lies
who frames and snaps at unspeakable proofs.

Those sun-seeking tourists of every stripe
who rent the palapas on balmy strands
then, discontent with being so white
devote their days to patchwork tans.

Touring students with questing minds
in disciplines of curious kinds,
unknown to and regardless of others
re-discover incredible finds.

Old trippy hippies, now refugees
tired of home truths and time-worn clichés,
though bored and jaded go over-seas
seeking out fresh fields to graze.

Real estate brokers out for a deal
travel to places reeling in shock,
ferret through ruins for stuff to steal
to put on the market as brand-new stock.

One must always take care in foreign places,
to learn the ropes from tourists’ faces,
before deciding that one feels safest
in the neighbourliness of home.

05/05/24 – Hawkes

Feature image: DSD, Pexels

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