Key West

the harmonica wails and
the humidity feels like a
warm mist, it’s a blur of color
up and down Duval street,
I step out on the well traveled
sidewalk rubbing up against bikinis
and panama jacks,
the lobby of the La Concha
is air conditioned but
the roof is so hot, no
one gets out there, but
I have friends here and
I glide right by the rope,
the sunset practically sizzles,
cooled only by the large
quantities of rum drinks
provided by Don the barkeep

— GB

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