The Landing was violent,
c0ck-pit was quiet...
And for my dollar the flight was on auto pilot.
Jet lag when i arrive I'm tired eyes drowsy,
and water more than all the fluid that borders the island.
The sea sneaks in a sweet & silent breeze,
A single tear trickle down my cheek.
As the sun rays glide across the street
With the grace of a figure skaters feet.
I'm Home, the flight longer then intended.
making my back the center of attention.
With my hemorrhoids flaring up with an oppressive lingering resentment....
Ice protrudes from the perspiring coca cola glass,
A cold soda acts if it was designed to retract an open gash.
Receptionist rolls out the welcome Matts
A service tray with cool towel and healthy snacks.
Bombarded with pamphlets and visitor maps....
-of heavy reading content
if i plan to navigate the complex.
The bell hop spoke with a thick accent,
More than a baggage handler...
he was a pimp, actually,
He promised women of mixed stature.
A rare attraction and a box spring gluteus Maximus.
His thoughts seem to shed some light
As the resort was packed with people from all walks of life.
Elderly couples enjoyin the summer nights
To the single types looking for a fling if your talk was right.
Outside of the resorts confinement...
My will power was tested like some sort of assignment,
Women with beauty so astounding.
But like a flaw in a diamond
a look closer you'll see what’s inside em,
Lush European businesses meant to camouflage the poverty environment...
Locals living in dilapidated houses playing hostess -
to foreigners constantly smiling at them.
Little kids and the less fortunate...
pan handle in front clubs so openly.
To the desperation of women focusing,
their attention to a man who promise them love hopefully...
A place we call paradise
Could easily be hell with a deeper insight;
Prostitution, drugs and famine such a seductive invite...