A Peruvian Poem in Ecuador

Well I´ve made it to Ecuador safe and sound. On the flight to Quito, Ecuador I finished up a poem I had written in Cuzco, Peru and I would like to share it with you all. In Cuzco tourism is by far the largest economic stimulator as it is not only a beautiful colonial town with lots of charm, but also it is a necessary stepping stone to Machu Picchu for travelers around the world. In Cuzco people sell paintings, alpaca hats and sweaters, gum, cigarettes, themselves... anything. Sitting in the plaza for an hour means that one must say ¨no gracias¨ at least a dozen times to old ladies begging for quarters or shoe-shine boys, no older than 5 or 6, promising a glistening shine to my canvas and suede hiking sandles.
One day a woman selling silver pendents started a casual conversation with me that ended in her tears, her life story, an abusive husband, 6 kids to raise by herself, and an eviction notice waiting for her at home. Now it could have all been bullshit, as a young white male here I have a target on my back that says, SYMPATHETIC, NAIEVE, $$$. This label is true to some extent as I hate saying ¨no gracias to all of these people, but I´ve realized that a quarter here and a quarter there will never even make a ripple in the pot. So in true Gringo spirit I´ll just lament about it and write poems! (note: Gringo is a term used in Latin America that refers to mostly white, affluent, foregners.)

In Trying to Force Empathy--Cuzco, Peru

I peddle my passion.
I peddle my pain.

¨No gracias¨

I painted this scene for you to remember.
I wove this hat so I could stay warm--seis soles?

¨No gracias¨

I am your baby sister with a borrowed doll.
I am your bashful brother with a dirty dime bag.

¨No gracias¨

I am your crafty grandfather with a stack of cigs.
I am your great grandmother in broken rags.

¨No gracias¨

I am your calloused father you´ve never seen before.
I am your manic mother on her last scraps of silver.
¨Will you please buy for your girlfriends?¨
¨Will you please buy for your own mother?¨

¨No gracias¨

She faces ecition this afternoon.
She faces the streets for certain.
She must face her six hungry children, you know!?
Beaten.
Broken.
Again.

¨No Gracias¨

¨No lo necesito¨

¨No lo quiero¨

Seems clear enough

Seems polite enough

Seems fair enough?

¨No Gracias¨

I am a nameless face you do not know.
I am a sense of suffer, you never will.
I peddle my passion.
I peddle my pain.

Just don´t look into my eyes Gringo.

It´s harder for you that way.