To the prostitutes on Boracay

To the prostitutes on Boracay, a paean

 

Hair like the midnight ocean there

and drunker than what we saw before

you three falling on our sand smiling and serve

requests and invitations. I think

you may be too wasted for your tricks

and money hasn't come up

so your kisses taste authentic

 

I leave off my shishah, smoke idling

in the bowl, and attend to you, you

sit on my lap, but nothing hard happens

for which I am grateful, because I

am better than this, but also kind

I doubly improve upon your postures

of romance so beautifully marketed

 

And you better than the others with

their colonial maamsir subservience

an attitude more equal to my station

which I did not choose but do occupy

more fully on islands than elsewhere

here under torchlight and flickering dark

and that is not my fault, it is theirs

your compatriots all stockier than thou

you are lithe and respectable

 

Having chosen among the mangos

what seems life to you, your shortskirt

thigh and painted mouth are yours from God

and that is not your fault, and my

reservations here are not my fault

so eatdrinkbemerry both of us on your beach

it is after midnight now, and no one

will take advantage of anyone

not if I have anything

to do with it