in the din of the Sperry's Restaraunt dim
bananas are fostered before my very eyes
on the table of lacquered ship wood
where the feet of a thousand Jamaican Maroons
could have patted as the Caribbean crucible cooled
to a concordant, whistling, hurricaneous majesty
she pinned the majesty on her blouse
and
our walk around Bicentennial Mall proceeded
as we relearned the names of the county benefactors
and thought about their closets
the Navigator limo had dirty chrome wheels
that should have been cleaned before picking us up
I shot the trees a look
and one sent a limb to my face
she pretended to like convertibles
and late breakfast
but I knew she didn't
I pretended to like zoos
and free love
but she knew I didn't
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