HAWAII, JUNE, 1964

All the photos in my mind

Flood in and out of view,

As if my life itself were blind,

Waiting for a prompter’s cue,

 

For something in the washed-out sky

Or sun-drenched pavements

That explains the reason why

It all seemed so intense,

 

The bleached-out trees

So wild, so tropic,

Filled with ancient breeze

At a camera’s random click,

 

The subject of the shot

A mansion, mostly whited-out

On its hillside plot

By the vinous, luscious rout

 

That duped my naive lens

With the bleached-out heart

Of darker ends,

As the unthought start

 

Of labyrinthine life,

The innocent pick-up-sticks

Which trace a future wife

From this blurry mix

 

Of island, sun, and sea,

Clones from faded time

A lavish, made-up destiny

Of technicolor rhyme,

 

Beaches, houses, novels hurled

From hazy rental cars

And their glaring silver world,

Backed, it seems, with stars.

 

Kailua, December 1, 2012

 

NOTES ON HAWAII, JUNE, 1969