Goa Gone

My spandex is really dirty.
Dreadlocks never grew beyond two feet.
The pigs gathered at the latrine
are impetuous.
Gil is gone and the beaches are empty
melted plastic trash piles
vicious dogs
left behind.
If I hear another drum
or encounter another tie-dye
chillum smoking baba
sadhu or bodhi
white knapsacker on
Agunda beach
I’ll be a
rave
ing
maniac.

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