Unspoiled Fictions

“when the natives see you, the tourist, they envy you, they envy your ability
to leave your own banality and boredom . . .” —Jamaica Kincaid

The ease with which a place becomes an entry:
searchlight viewfinder fantasy’s aperture

Smell of my lateral gazing
Reach of the outsider’s extravagant need

While I listened for the dialects
While I hunted down the night markets’ chewed lips

Authentic encounters executed just so
Extractions of color and details in the needed size

Beauty kept simple and numbness hot
The contracts and the rot in the air are merciful