Bazaar

By Ewan

Sat, 20 Jun 2009
  • 986 reads
2 comments
 

'Jaeed Jidan, Sadiqui,' he approved
my choice of tat from his cluttered stand.
A cat-in-a-bag or muezzin-call alarm
clock. I flinched as he grabbed my hand.
'Dinarain, takallamti', but he hadn't.
The price was one Bahraini dinar:
I gave it to him and was released
and returned -with clock or cat- to the car
with the wonky taxi sign and
a henna-bearded loon took me back
through the bazaar and neon Bank signs,
into civilisation, through the crack
that was Mana'ama highway.

Certificate U
Poem
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by boromir on
Having been to the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul I think you've captured atmosphere nicely. The tour guide let us loose on our own saying the sellers will accept any currency - Sterling, Dollars, Drachma... (but as we soon found out, not a Royal Bank of Scotland tenner!)

Submitted by Ewan on
Of course, it should probably be entitled 'souk', this piece, really. Still, I love the sound of Bazaar and of course the echoes of 'bizarre' it sets off in my head. Thanks for reading. Ewan

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