On a Cuban Beach
We have flown a thousand miles to find the beginning.
The pirate treasures we did not locate, the blue marlins we did not catch.
In the hotel there are too many mirrors; wherever you turn, you confront that queer familiar apparition. Just you. Alone. And the same themes as a billion men before you.
Some time, maybe, I will make my peace with life. But not soon. Not yet.
Cinnamon scent of piña colada: Debussy sonata riddled with Golden Sections and impossible melancholy.
The hotel lobby: aquarium of circling souls. Exotic animals,all dangerous glamour and banality, when will you exhaust your appetites?
No more tales of Hemingway and Old Havana; no more drinking stories;no more jeep safaris; no more lies by the swimming pool; no more mojitos and daiquiris; no more weary conversations in the cocktail lounge; no more “paradises” and “perfect days”; no more revolutions,reforms or status quo...
A hurricane is coming, across the Atlantic;feared and craved in equal measure;an avenger, born on the African coast, its huge centrifuge starting to turn, its uncompromising Wheel of Karma.
And I’m left here, a Christian Muslim Jewish Buddhist pagan atheist son of a bitch. A pair of eyes in the dark.
The brighter the light outside, the darker it is inside me. A day without fear, what would that be like? Serpent’s kiss of the tropical sun, send us another Eden to spoil.
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