The Dancing Natives Of Cogon

trained now in the art of
tourism
all for the love of money
they change costumes when the white guests
arrive upon prior notice
relearn their old language
practice the dance of their old ancestors
using the wooden spears and shield
as props
on a rehashed warrior dance
or the wedding march
or the symbolic courtship of the
birds

in proper places now
the tourists from America has arrived
like a stage show
or a big pretense as i may call this
(unable to land for employment on their
chosen degrees)
they dance for them
and let them hear an old language
an old song
a lullaby that their mothers used to sing for them
all for the dollars.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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