urban f

squid urban

Laid back, the early risers rest in wheelbarrows. Woven baskets with tubers piled high. Mountains of breadfruit, starch is staple, the perfect ride for exotic spices. Green leaves and bundles of onions, towers of eggs and flower stalls. Birds of paradise fenced us all inside, I felt drained of colour.

Noise and heat of the city zooms. Some guy with a fake ‘Ask me’ badge stops to see if I’ll fall for his scam. Flip a mental bird, my eyes say I ain’t no newbie wanderer, hassles the next in line, an elderly couple gazing in circles, pointing to the sky. Across the street a slower pace begins.

Fish markets wrap the periphery. Small catches displayed like Renaissance, backed by wood, stones and rifles. I have trouble eating blue, the parrot fish belongs to the coral. Big and bulging iridescence, to be admired not swallowed.

Kids swished away flies from…

View original post 74 more words

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s