Gate Two Street

Gate Two Street
Koza, Okinawa
1965
Neon signs
Red,
Blue,
Green,
Yellow,
Colors burst, carnival like, on
olive drab, government issued
homespun retinas.
At each step, sultry doors whisper
“Come into my parlor, Farmboy”
From pawn shops, tailor shops,
wine shops, whore shops,
“Yankee dollar welcome here”
Saloon Kinbashi
Club Manhattan
Uptown Club
this club, that club

Welcome all—
white soldiers
white sailors,
white airmen,
Blacks walk on by
to Alabama, Mississippi like
bars and joints and Black Shacks
on Sukiran Highway.
Just like at home.

Everybody plays and everybody pays.
Heard once—heard a hundred times
“Hey, GI, you want short time?
I takesan horny.”
The smell taste of Orion beer,
reaches out of open doors
like a gossamer aromatic finger
siren beckoning:
“The magic is in here.
Just for special you”.

A young marine stops
in front of a pawn shop
and sadly looks at a pawn ticket
willed to him by a friend.