A Poem for Bangkok

Tacky stools and plastic plates,
buckets of alcohol a colourful straw.
In Bangkok you’re special it’s your birthday,
Watch out though you might just fall.

Perhaps you lift yourself back up however,
up on top of that table over there.
It’s a fight to the end you worldy dancer,
That’s it the ladyboys can’t just stare.

The chains are broken,
the tigers are set loose.
Sawatdee HAAAAAaaaaa they cry,
the money’s just an excuse.

Yet before you get taken away,
into a “tuk tuk” to a “ping pong” show this day,
why not add this coco ice cream to the mix,
or some cockroaches and maggots whatever your fix.

The monks face palm and shake their heads,
Laugh in disbelief but in the end they’re your friends.
You visit them the next morning at the grand palace or wat pho,
to find yourself again you dirty, silly, mofo.

When you feel not so alone and not so shaky,
There! A boat! Go to the next side of the city!

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Try not to throw up.
Try not to throw up.
Try really hard not to throw up #gonnavoooooooomit

 

 

Arriving at MBK…

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You head to the top floor,
don’t worry not seeing double,
Phone stores are abound,
If you haggle it won’t cost a rubble. (Actually you are still probably getting ripped off who are we kidding? haha)

Finish with Thai massage…

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In conclusion I think something that Bangkok shows,
is that there are other paths one may choose to go,
and if you’re strong and listen closely to your heart,
even in the craziest part, you’ll find that we are all humans at the start.

We all want happiness, candy, and a comfy bed,
Others prefer hoola hoops or listening to Led.
But at any time we can still find commonality in what we do,
Bangkok has really good pad seyu.

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Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.


 

 

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