Sunday, July 15, 2007


Greetings from the Hill

A Key West sunday, peaceful.. quiet.

No tradesmen trucks, no assholes,

overweight assholes on mopeds.

The oldman was burned out,

hosting a homeless friend and pet.

"That fucking iquana has to go,"

ranting and raving at the little fellow.

His nerves were delicate from his diet.

"Yeah, asshole, five gallons of beer,

and three joints a day....enough is

...enough, back to the plan."

The madone kept Law and Order.

The classics from Havana were silent,

the television a black silent eye,

the oldwoman shuffled about

playing her flute, driving the oldman


"Well I spent all my money at Faustos...

I guess I'll have to stay longer."

Taking the carrot cake and chocalate

icecream from the refrigerator and

settling into the editors' chair.

The oldman sighed and took his notebook

and the balcony.

A lovely breeze in the florida keys,

these Isles of the Eternal Sun,

among the friendliest people

of the world.

No comments: