Izmir Bazaar Poem by James Frady

The babbling of a thousand men
Surround me in this place
I understand not one word
Nor recognize one face
Nuts are roasting in the streets
Strange spices temp my nose
Men bark bargains as I walk by
Hoping I pause as I go
Oriental rugs catch my eye
With colors and patterns bright
A gleaming eye, “A sale my friend? ”
I’m sorry, not tonight
Exotic fruits and meat and clothes
Here are brought to sell
But I’m just here to look around
Before my ship sets sail.