And pause for a transportation strike..
I'm afraid I'm stuck in Marrakech
But with local I admit I've been blessed
It could have been M'Hamid or Tingdad
Or another particular douar unsaid
Why, you ask, am I sitting here?
Well therein is a tale to hear
The taxi drivers and buses
Are worried and all making fusses
About a new government policy
Regard: driving-accident injuries
Let's say your bus, as along it flies
Accidentally hits someone who dies
Off to jail you go
For five years whole
And 50 million dirhams' your fee
Which you'll be paying for eternity
So that's the new policy rumor
That has made traveling a blunder
For every tourist walks the streets
With miserable, tired defeat
And stare down at their feet
Wishing for comfortable sneaks
Because fancy heals don't cut it, I say
When "no taxis" means walking all day
Thus settling in we all are
Since one simply can't travel far
Rather wander through blossoming parks
And get lost in Jma Alfna's larks
2 Comments:
Hi Rachel.
Amazing to read your posts. Thanks.
I have been nominated for what seems like the same program you are in in Morocco, leaving in September. I'd love to talk with you. Send me an email if you don't mind chatting a bit... laurainawe@hotmail.com
Peace,
Laura
Saw your blog. Wow - very impressive. Your life and poetry have great resonance for me as I lived and worked in Morocco for 7 years. I'm a Doctor and now working back in UK. Is there anything I can send to you as a gift (from your list)? All best, David
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