A the market tomatoes are juicy and plump.
There's carrots and chiles and frijoles that jump.
They will polish your shoes, and they will cut your hair,
There's Mexican boots and women's underwear.
Radios with speakers that incessantly boom,
And they will tell your fortune, in a little dark room.
There's tacos, and soups, and submarines too,
Potatoes on a stick and spicy Mexican stew.
Black market viagra, so stand up and cheer,
Just one little blue pill, and you hit passing gear.
There's pirated c.d.s for a dollar a piece,
And some little Neem trees, that cure every disease.
They will fix your flats, even rotate your tires,
It's heaven, it's hell, paradise, and quagmire.
But on saturdays and Sundays that's where I'll be,
Ochoas's Flea Market, is the best place for me.
11/20/12 Alton Texas
What a fabulous poem, Juan! ! It makes me want to go to that market and see all of the great stuff they have there- very well done- a 10. -Claudia
So pleased you are back Juan - this is a great write, very amusing. I love Camden Market, London, here in the UK - wonderful place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I certainly hope you are selling some poems there my friend! ! ! Merry-Christmas to you pal.