Poetry from Thailand

Original poetry written in and about rural Thailand.

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Location: Chong Khae, Nakhonsawan, Thailand

Friday, April 6, 2012

People Person Number 1

My old friends, drowning in debt,
float past me on their way down.
Their eyes are wide with freight
as they glide by me in this clear,
liquid syrup. What is one to do?
Why didn’t they buy by the case?
Why didn’t they buy in bulk? 
Such economies when assiduously
applied would surely have kept
them out of this predicament.
I can’t tell you how many times
I’ve seen this in shows on TV.
Now, they whine they are too
old to learn a new job, too feeble
to handle a mop, but the truth
is that they are too proud to try
and sustain themselves and loved
ones in a position significantly
below mine. Fie on them, I say Fie.
They should have gone to work for
the commonweal as I did.  Now, I get
to work at 9:30 and by ten my desk
is clear.  Thirty-five years on and my
Department calls me the “Head”
but I prefer PP No. 1, don’t you?

FG April 7, 2012

All rights reserved by the author Forrest Greenwood.

This is a bitter poem, but reflects my feeling for arrogant politicians,
government employees and those who work for quasi-governmental
agencies.