Poetry – Beggars, hawkers and touts

Beggars, hawkers and touts

Beggars, hawkers and touts,

Vying for the tourist dollar.

Plying garish tourist tat

And giving it a holler.

Watching every move we make

Like the proverbial hawk.

Ready to pounce with a line

Should we stop to talk.

Living on the very edge,

Reliant on penny trinkets.

Watching your eyes

Should you blink it’s

Straight in with the hard sell

Foisting tacky crap

Into the gullible hands

Of the affable tourist chap.

Opher 20.3.2019

There are stalls laden with more goods than they can possibly sell. Who buys it all? Is it all for show?

Most of it is shoddy rubbish – mementos for a holiday. But the stalls are all empty of purchasers. Nobody is buying. The stall holders stare out morosely.

But should you stop to look, or betray an interest, they pounce and you are trapped within a situation. If you do not want to buy the only way out is with insistence and firmness, but they will still have none of it.

Best not to look. Best not to stop. Best not to talk.

They are their own worst enemies. But desperation drives the need.