I hear banter, Bantu, Pashtun,
Or Farsi, I cannot discern.
A small man climbs down to the beach
Inquires, “What lake are this is here?”
He watches me pick up glass slag,
Asks, “Why you were doing this?”
Makes good cheap jewelry for whores
I employ, you know how women
Can’t ignore gewgaw sparklies,
And this way I don’t gotta pay
Them as much, keeping my payroll low –
The American way, eh?
“I see,” the man says. “What lake are this is here?”
Baikal or Titicaca
I declare, all Cold War maps having
Been falsied for national security
Or lark, both are plausible given
All the gamesmanship of those times.