BACCHANALIANISM

In the cabana
Mini fridge on the lānai  
Decorating cues from Asia  
  
Sipping lambic from a calabash—  
Balsamic and basil blinis  
A touch too basic, needs more acid  
   
The flashy sin of samba  
Hot like chili  
Tommy Bahamas and bikinis  
   
(We once spent time  
Volunteering in clinics  
In Namibia)  
   
She’s been depending on cannabis  
Taking acacia to be slim again  
Coconut oil balms  
   
Alms for what ails  
Better them than mail it in—  
Banish the thought!  
   
---  
   
Just enough light to limn:  
•Almanacs on the shelf  
•A sizable bin she uses for ash  
   
•Aha! The outlines  
Of her body—  
A hint of labia  
   
A slightly opened clam  
And then…  
Pursed lips become a chasm  
   
She emerges, sans everything  
Her albinism glowing  
Freshly shaven, shines like china  
   
Save for a tiny strip  
First fur of lambs  
(I am brushed by her cilia)  
   
From the floor  
She climbs my body  
We are mere animals  
   
---  
   
My banana peels itself  
Inch by inch  
As I take in her cancan legs  
   
“You be long, to me” she stakes her claim  
(She has an 8-inch bias)  
Slip my salami to a shaman  
   
Sail her canals as a caiman  
Limbs flailing  
Polishing each other’s shins  
   
Slam into the wall  
My nails gripping her honey hams  
Nibs on nips  
   
Culo gordo  
Mashed on granite slab—  
Mach 5!  
   
Cast off chains  
Clinch the prize  
(To great acclaim)  
   
---  
   
We have lain together  
At the Dewdrop Inn  
And I am dripping  
   
Slowly down her chin  
 “Use the basin”  
(Slain) I suggest  
   
My voice embarrassingly nasal  
She wipes it away  
Her hands more mannish than mine  
 
When we met  
She was a snail without a shell  
And the world was salt  
   
Bastards and their maniac cabals  
Meeting in cabins in the woods  
The banal sham  
   
Annals of our Simian history  
An emotional scab  
She hails a taxi cab