Riding the Elephant

Posted: September 28, 2021 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,
RIDING THE ELEPHANT
By David Allen

Thailand’s Sin City glowed at night,
neon signs lit Pattaya’s streets packed
with American sailors and Marines
who jostled European tourists seeking
drugs, booze and unbridled sex.

I was there to report on
joint military maneuvers,
but was struck silly
by the maneuvers of
the "Buy-Me-Drinky”' gals
dressed in schoolgirl uniforms,
plaid skirts and light blue blouses.
They performed bumps and grinds
in club doorways, promising wild sex.

Scantily clad waitresses in the hotel lobby
knelt next to my chair, gingerly holding
cups to my lips as I sipped my drinks.
Outside, the streets sported cocktail bus-pubs,
and older prostitutes called from darkened doorways,
that hid their age-warped bodies, selling themselves
for a few Thai bahts or Yankee bucks.

I spent most of my time in my hotel room
writing about how the day’s exercise went,
sending the story to my editors in Tokyo,
calling my wife a half ocean away,
and fending off a hallway hostess
who wanted to give me an hour of
"the best ever sexual deep massage."

In the hotel restaurant I saw
a family with two children
and asked my interpreter
where they would go for fun.
Besides a few religious shrines,
where would a tourist in
Sin City take a child?
Even the beautiful beaches
swarmed with sex.

He laughed and drove me to a zoo
where children perched on baby elephants
that were led around a small circular track.
He was taken aback when I asked
if I could scramble atop one and go for a ride.
I didn’t care about seeming silly and laughed
as I climbed up on Dumbo for what was
the highpoint of my trip to Thailand’s
version of Sodom and Gomorrah

NOTE: This is one of three poems of mine in the new Last Stanza Poetry Journal (Vol 6). Be sure to order from Amazon.

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