She straddled him on the fifth column
and Caballero maybe
turned in his grave, or grinned.
On the statue she blinded him
with palm leaves and straddled him
once more; everyone stopped
paying attention to card games
and the breeze that used to precede
new arrivals from the harbour.
Wave clammy palms
at indigo or violet sky waste deep
in squashed fruit and bird shit;
jump-on-toppa-me and SHARE
THIS SIX PACK
all the way from Munich, Germany
Why such things as parties, why
some cities and not others? Just a few are like this,
with the everday art refined to stilleto point.
That acupuncture thing hits me as I wince
at my paleness in the fountain, shirt
unbuttoned
to pubic ladder HERE I AM! HERE!
looking like I’ll piss myself
and in the background the palm leaves shake
and the girl on the statue comes spitting
lipstick all over this port. HERE I AM!