My Fair Bag Lady
My Fair Bag Lady, every morning I pass you. And every morning we exchange the same smile. And every morning you hide that magnificent set of rotten teeth, that really do not matter. The beetle nut might have turned your gums into a blood red carcases of decay, but the energy you radiate from within you is like nothing I have ever seen. And it shines through, even if you are covering your face.
I met My Fair Bag Lady in Jakarta. She lived in the park across from the American Embassy. She lived there for about three weeks until she was forced to find another home.
At the other side of the park.