The day's mistakes are written off by gregarious evenings.
In this maximum Mexican city, crowds swell, tacos sizzle
Sidewalk markets erase the memory of drab office meetings.
Time upturns convention here, in this rebel Caribbean island.
Vintage cars past their sheen, bread on ration, cigars on a roll
Cuba libre, son cubano, Che on dilapidated walls, all go hand in hand.
Through deep forests and the reality of magic, even graves here live
Old ladies sell fried yams; old men huddle under ancient trees.
Cities obese with history, towns coy with secrets, this is how places heave.
Art deco cafes and office buildings, parks and mercados whisper yesterdays
once more, teasing the sentimental, the lost, the hopelessly romantic
In this paradise of strangers, love creates its own labyrinthine ways.
very reminiscent of Mehico as I remembered it now! The street food was just something else... sizzling tacos :) and the city obese with history!
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