Tibetan Side Of Town

Through rutted winding streets of Kathmandu
 Dodging crowded humans cows dogs rickshaws -
 Storefronts constellated pools of bluewhite
 Bright against darkening walls
 The butterfly sparkle in my lasered eye still seems
 To hold that last shot of red sun through haze over jumbled roofs
 Everything moves like slow fluid in this atmosphere
 Thick as dreams
 With sewage, incense, dust and fever and the smoke of brick kilns and cremations -
 Tom Kelly's bike rumbles down -
 we're going drinking on the Tibetan side of town.
 Beggar with withered legs sits sideways on skateboard, grinning
 There's a joke going on somewhere but we'll never know
 Those laughing kids with hungry eyes must be in on it too
 With their clinging memories of a culture crushed
 By Chinese greed
 Pretty young mother by the temple gate
 Covers her baby's face against diesel fumes
 That look of concern - you can see it still -
 Not yet masked by the hard lines of a woman's
 Struggle to survive
 Hard bargains going down
 When you're living on the Tibetan side of town.
 Big red Enfield Bullet lurches to a halt in the dust
 Last blast of engine leaves a ringing in the ears
 That fades into the rustle of bare feet and slapping sandals
 And the baritone moan of long bronze trumpets
 Muffled by monastery walls.
 Prayer flags crack like whips in the breeze
 Sending to the world - tonight the message blows east
 Dark door opens to warm yellow room and there
 Are these steaming jugs of hot millet beer
 and I'm sucked into the scene like this liquor up
 This bamboo straw
 Sweet tungba sliding down -
 drinking on the Tibetan side of town