The River of Tourists

It flows through the very center of our city.
It is creatively landscaped to be lush and green.
It twists and winds in a cool oasis below the street level.
It is completely man made for the business of tourism.

The restaurants that line its banks offer our regional food.
The shops that line its banks sell our regional products.
The music that is played alone its winding way is particular to our city.
The statues and plaques alone its paths reflect our city's history.

On the streets above its quiet flow life is noisey and fast.
In the mall at one bend business bustles with customers.
On the water floating taxi barges fill the air with fumes and noise.
In the shade of the trees the pegeons coo and the ducks fish for food.

In the morning the conventioneers walk or ride the water taxi to the convention center.
At noon the tourists all gather in the restaurants and cafes for lunch.
In the afternoon the browsers and picture takers wander and stare.
At evening the bars receive their share.

All day long and every day the tourist flow on the river.
It is, after all, their river; made for them.
All night long they gather at "The Place to Eat" or "The Place to Drink."
In all seasons of the year the river of toursts flows.

It is a very unusual river, this river of ours.
No one goes fishing or swimming there.
It has no docks or marinas.
No industry or dams.

It is a river of and for tourists.
It flows more with money than water.
It is the merchants who are fishing for dollars
It is the tourist who make up the catch.