The sweat from an unwashed body’s burning stench
The putrid bird’s carcass on a wrought iron park bench
The foul smell of an ill butchered salmon
And the young peasant boy who sees weak muscles and famine
The infected rapture that surrounds like halos in flight
The power of the sun that keeps daytime blinding but bright
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the young peasant boy who’s life and boots he eagerly wages
The clay huts reeking of ammonia and caked with feces
The nearby odor of a tribe-like human species
The trail of grease from a bamboo swamp
And the young peasant boy who carries a distinct, lonely stomp
The worrisome droplets that come every nightfall
The sunken-eyed horse in his dilapidated stall
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the young peasant boy who’s woes have filled many pages
The bitterness of uncooked seeds and grains
The never ending sound of approaching freight trains
The touch of gravel onto bare, trembling flesh
And the young peasant boy who lives in a box made of mesh
The dry bottom of a holy man’s water pail
The selling of bread that’s uncooked and too stale
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the story of the young peasant boy that’s been told through the ages
The putrid bird’s carcass on a wrought iron park bench
The foul smell of an ill butchered salmon
And the young peasant boy who sees weak muscles and famine
The infected rapture that surrounds like halos in flight
The power of the sun that keeps daytime blinding but bright
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the young peasant boy who’s life and boots he eagerly wages
The clay huts reeking of ammonia and caked with feces
The nearby odor of a tribe-like human species
The trail of grease from a bamboo swamp
And the young peasant boy who carries a distinct, lonely stomp
The worrisome droplets that come every nightfall
The sunken-eyed horse in his dilapidated stall
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the young peasant boy who’s woes have filled many pages
The bitterness of uncooked seeds and grains
The never ending sound of approaching freight trains
The touch of gravel onto bare, trembling flesh
And the young peasant boy who lives in a box made of mesh
The dry bottom of a holy man’s water pail
The selling of bread that’s uncooked and too stale
The walking and vomiting into snake charmer’s wooden cages
And the story of the young peasant boy that’s been told through the ages