In the ballyhoo’d and racket thrilled
Mallorcan night
I sought my turn in bars and clubs
where kids in bras on poles
slug pheremones unsupervised
I fled to drink with barstaff
and a ragged aging playboy
whose bikini bosomed trophys
clung togeather on the
key square coloured dancefloor
and awoke in my own vomit
I stood on cigarrette stubbed sand
in plaza del toros
ascended the vertiginous
peak of the stands
and slipped between her bullpens
hard like Hemmingway
On the ragged limestone outcrop
coves del drac,
over the meds sweet threshing waters
I skipped and hung from
arching seatowers,
whose Balearic steps
curved like boats
between the islands
Curved like a sweaty
coast born beauty,
salty smiled
and made my journey
cross the plain to Cala D’Or