It's raining in Brazil today so I finished off a couple of silly poems I started in Asia ....
The White Westerner,
Is so easy to see.
He beholds a look of discomfort,
As he sweats profusely.
You may catch his eye on a train,
And his glare may suggest,
Don't talk to me, I'm with the locals,
So far from the West.
And yet however hard he tries,
To blend in with people from the East,
He usually stands out ridiculously,
Towering above them like a beast.
“It's so cheap here”,
He likes to declare.
And yet the good fortune of his home
economy,
He can be reluctant to share.
As he barters with spirit,
To the lowest price,
And eats more than his fair portion,
Of meat and rice.
In some respects,
What a lucky fate.
Living like a king,
Because of an exchange rate.
But knowing the price of everything,
And the value of nothing,
Surely adds one more nail,
To his coffin! :-)
