Above the gentle rumble of 114’s motor
There’s the low holla-and-walla of
Internationals making deals and promises.
Sandy squares of Creek-side villas bob by
Shaded by grand yachts
Of the super rich.
Our 1-Dirham dinghy chugs
Slopping to moorings
Crowded with all of those faces of Earth.
Too loud and close
A colossal dhow blazes
Beaming phone-lights and faces…
In it’s wake our disembarkation
Is a hoppy affair
Scuffed sandals and ruffled kandura’s