Girl, Amused

Perfect girl, whose face, alas,
Is frozen on my Mai Tai glass,

Forever heading for a hammock,
Locked in motion by ceramic,

Conjured up beneath my thumb
By the miracle of island rum;

Endless sea and orange mist
Always surfing, always missed,

As slack key evening Trader Vics
The hula moon’s mojito mix;

The 1930s, Charlie Chan,
Float around the ceiling fan;

Umbrella toothpicks fade from view:
None to blame but Fu Manchu:

Nothing moves us quite as much
As the girls that we touch,

Except the muses, cool or luscious,
That by accident (or design) touch us.

November 26th, 2007
Ala Moana State Park, Honolulu