as you pack <br />your jute sack <br />containing your <br />personal belongings: <br />a pair of pants <br />an old dirty white shirt <br />a pair of rubber slippers <br />a hat <br />(leave your bolo <br />you can't use it there) <br />do not promise me <br />that you will not <br />be coming back <br />to this poor little <br />town which has not <br />given you the <br />opportunity for <br />a higher wage <br />as a houseboy <br /> <br />ah, Honesto the city <br />if you only know <br />has no pity <br />it had long forgotten <br />feelings <br />and those who <br />cannot adapt to <br />its cruelty <br />may simply die <br />beside the sidewalk <br />of its cold streets <br />and when the flood <br />comes to clean <br />its waste <br />you may be lucky <br />carried for free <br />by the big water <br />to be finally eaten <br />by the wild fishes <br />in the murky river<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-honesto-in-going-to-the-city/
