A cat stalks amongst stalks; monkeys like old men, fingers unpick your banana hands, curious and careful. Too much expression. Don’t worry, have a curry. And from a coach window glimpses of a land where a skeleton boy sleeps or lies dead under palm. And the red earth chokes. Follow the waterfall to mango pickle down river to a jungle boogie rhythm you ain’t ever heard before. Cobra skins and coy carp, the sound of cicadas amasses. A stand still in traffic, its ‘crush’ hour its okay to beep even if it will never get you anywhere. A treasure trove of trinkets, a myriad of jewels. All you see is money, all I see is you wanting money. Dusty rags from sandy bags, the face of desperation is ugly. Temples carved into caves as markets coloured like an artist’s palette.