The Rape of the Bangkok Lock. Canto I

Canto the First

What dire offence from amorous causes springs,
Especially regarding Thailand things.
I sing - this verse to Stickman, Muse! is due,
This even Earnshawe* may vouchsafe to view,
(Though all its faults may pain his learned eyes;
Faults that Foskin would not realise!)
Dana would deride the English spelling,
And Dean Barrett the ropy story telling.
I'll try my best, for though I am no poet,
I have an aim and I want you to know it:
I want to rewrite all good poetry
With a focus on what matters most to me:
Thailand, bargirls, ‘good’ girls, sex and love.
If, for some reason, you cannot approve
Of a) writing of girls and their allure,
Or b) ripping off English literature,
Forgive me - but I know there’ll be some gain
If you read the originals again,
And if, perusing my poor verse, the whiles,
You are transported to the Land of Smiles.
    The sun, through dusty windows shot a ray
And opened eyes that must eclipse the day;
Almond-shaped, with just a single fold,
Pupils of black and lids of burnished gold;
Jiab’s eyes - a bargirl at T**ac;
The best bargirl - the leader of the pack.
She looked to see the time and got a shock -
For it was only half-past twelve o’clock.
She turned around and snuggled down once more,
Muttering, “Wake me up at half past four!”
A bargirl’s life is very much nocturnal:
They work and play at night - sleep is diurnal.
So back to sleep, and dreams as sweet as honey
In which farangs send lots and lots of money.
But not for long; her cell phone gave a bleep
And Jiab once again was jerked from sleep.
She grabbed her phone; it was a man she knew,
A rich farang - her dream had just come true!
(Again). “He send me 50,000 baht
This month. What do you think to that?”
She said to Noi. But poor Noi didn’t answer,
Because she hadn’t got a single sponser.
“I get up now, although it’s very early.
Let’s go and do something that’s nice and girly -
Like shopping - I want some jewellery and such -
What about you?” Noi answered, “Oh, not much.”
    Six o’clock - a time when, near and far,
Bargirls are getting ready for the bar:
Now awful Beauty puts on all its arms;
The Fair each moment rises in her charms,
Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace,
And calls forth all the wonders of her face -
Not that these girls need it - heaven knows!
(Or Nirvana) they look best without clothes,
And, by analogy, they needn’t wake up
Their beautiful skin-tones with any make-up.
Although of course you never could persuade them
That they look best as God (or Buddha) made them.

© Rob 2008

*Earnshaw – author of Dr Earnshawe’s Diary which took the Thailand forums by storm a year ago. It would be great to hear from this author again.