Hula Girl

Scene of so many tropical drinks
Back when the bar was young,
Before the wire cage that management
Installed against the, if you ask me, charming
Sugar birds that cadge for crumbs and unite
All guests against the inn’s so-called hospitality.

Just the sight of your green, pink, and yellow
Robes reminds me of the filigree,
The hallucinatory swirls of your eponymous
Skirts, the vertiginous whorls and swaying strobes
Of a flowered 1950s pin-up Miss
Inside her ring-bound globe.

Inside your jumbled veil lie fantasies
Of rhyme and rum. Just to see you
Makes my spirit leap, and sightseer visions
Flash around me of the jungle and the sea,
“Like candles in Vermeer
Lit by the descending orange sun,”

To quote at random from an inside page:
“Hibiscus on the wind, torch-lighting
By the beach café,” as perfect night replaces
Perfect day, your soul on permanent display,
Your azure hem waiting for the Zen
Of my matching Island Hula pen.