At last I found my poem - At the Races in Havana - by Kyi May Kaung

At last I have found my poem that fits these trishaw pictures - of thin people peddling fat people -

At the Races in Havana

By Kyi May Kaung

Three times out of four
we marched
so as to appear active
not inactive our heels
ground down --
at the fair grounds
passing by the stables
a horse still there
smelling of horse shit --
The aging teacher flirting
with her young student
all night --
The leaders exhorting exhorting
no bigger than chilli flakes
in the distance
whisked in
in their black
Mercedes Benz.

We turned around and left
our sons in green longyis.

I've been there at the gate
when they suddenly closed the grate
and four soldiers stood guard
facing out.

We exhausted from
our march drinking
over-sweet coffee in
the coffee shop.

Did you see that?
My friend said
she and I between us
300 lbs -- The trishaw
peddler thin peddling
furiously
uphill -- Lucky we got out when
we did --
did you see that?

And inside the speechifying
and the slogans
long live the revolution
long live the revolution
little slips of paper
passed out 5 minutes
before --

We avoid each others' eyes
as we mumble
muddled and cowed.

Copyright Kyi May Kaung
from
Pelted with Petals:  The Burmese Poems,
Intertext, Anchorage, AK, 1996.