Armani'd in the jeweled air

Flashing in the sequin glare

Of dappled see-through halter tops

Seen throughout the Capri'd shops,

Gucci glinting off the shows 

Of flesh inside the dressed-up windows,

Superbras and spandex straps 

Underneath their disco wraps

That climb up boiling island thighs

And fall back down in swan-dive dyes,

The Buccellati panorama

Filling up with psychodrama,

Only Kookai and gelati

Covering the tourist body,

High noon conga on the via

Draped in sex and bougainvillea,

As Laetitia and Ivana

Pollenate the Quisisana,

Too much Fendi, Guess, and sky

For an unsophisticated eye:


Yet all the fashion on display

Above the equally outlandish bay,

Whether natural or crass,

Is captured in a pane of glass,

Where cold passions à la mode,

Like summer fireworks, explode,

And, lumped so close together, make 

A real world from a costume fake,

The window pane's transparent dance

Undressing starlets at a glance:

This world suits us if we view it

And at the same time see right through it.


July, 1999

Punta Tragara, Capri