SLAM!

"Mixed Messages" 

The hills are alive
with the sounds of streetcars.
Tourists strolling,
jostling for a view of the island.
Prisoners
bodies long gone,
but stories linger.

Pungent day-old fish
mingles with the odor
of sweat-soaked dock workers;
a perfume to entice the ladies.

Languid couples
share chocolate on the wharf
while seabirds call their mates.
Dancing on the crests of waves;
seals roaring out a tempo.

Vagrants keeping beat,
with the clatter
of change in a tin can.
Tied around their neck,
a sign of the times.
Homeless --
need money for drugs.