Lose Yourself in Maps

By Michael H. Kew

bushel of purple weddingdress blooms

hydrangea and lily flood my oozing brain

blasting from the octopi aphrodisiac soup

Grinning promising unknown young man

Hairy brown forefinger erect

Chainsmoking

Eyes full of wine

Nose full of brine

the Horta babe perma-smiles,

elegant silhouette

Classic local beaut

Susana, voluptuary

bubbly hive-haired brunette and

barkeep—she’s bashing beers

Begging me

Squinty slurred shots fired by Pat the Kraut

Cagey conquistador for my skullcrushed regret

I stand tall on the table and threaten

High as my heart sinks

 Volcanical botanical interludes

ferryblown seasickness

angry ancestral expat man of surf

Airs of dead fish

The muses and vultures are all around us

Constellations,

Complexities,

Vexities,

Vorticities,

Mustache, white boat

Whalewitch lantern

Do you know we are ruled by scrimshaw?

  Drunken afternoon in creaking boat

Reading memories

in the seas ‘twixt fertile isles

Croaking crevasse wherewith swells collide

The Sun drones on and drops behind the sleeping dragon

Fussy yawn of Atlanticism

Suck on corn and cigars in the heavy twilight

when darkness begins to see itself

lose yourself in maps of the Gulf Stream

in blessings of rainbows

in the reflected waterfall of heaven

scratch across alluvial stone and cobbled secrets

plunged from flower mountains and green valleys of deforestation

pinching the perfect peaceful rockwalled fields of pastel

we wake and splash into screwfoot dreams

at the plains at the tongues of tranquil lagoons

faja—holy remnant fallen lands

swept and massaged by sweet gods of hope

Excerpted from Incense Gardens, forthcoming work of travel poetry via Spruce Coast Press.