Timbuktu

O Timbuktu has never been

A city you are too safe in.

Taurog, Songhay, even French,

All have felt the bitter clench

Of this city, now in Mali –

Former site of slaves and folly,

Gold and salt, and scholars too –

Such was once great Timbuktu!

Berbers came to study there

In their tents of gray goat hair.

Now the place is overrun

With the fatwah and the gun.

Tourists shun it, since kidnappers

Proliferate like candy wrappers.

And Al Qaeda has the power

To discourage happy hour.

Out amidst the burning sand,

Twill never be a Disneyland.

Polyglot and violence prone;

It's not a place to be alone.

Timbuktu, I give thee pity –

You're almost as bad as New York City.