Honolulu

Brazen trees of Puerto Rico

and Wakiki, your

rouge blossoms

flaunt their beauty

like certain stylish women—Anais

Nin, Coco

Chanel. Shower trees

itch to get up and

merengue, intermingle

their stems and blooms.

Birds yearn to abide in you,

hang up their wings. Bees

lumber about, fuzzy

& fat like baby bears.

Me? I want to

be twenty-one again,

back in Acapulco, sunning

on the Isle of Shells with a

rum punch in my

hand, and William Walkoff

leaning over me, long,

hard, and tan.