For Erika Meitner
It all men’s chiseled cheeks & bone
Bronzed as in sun kissed
Bristle as in beard needs combing
Bone as in cracked against rifle butt,
But who gets old on Miami Vice
Breasts are plump & high
Eyes shaded by the lens of too much money.
Honey poured over the backs of hairy johns.
Jealousy leads to blown up yachts
& armed men floating in the harbor
Crockett & Tubbs, such Anglo names
Such pretty men chasing villains in silk shirts
Or lifting the leggy brunettes away from
Not-so sudden danger.
Beneath the scowl of one Miami night, lovers, hustlers,
cronies & crooks gather behind tropical plants & covered walls
Where dice roll & they moan their calculations.
They want devotion from the gambler’s moon
But what they get is Venus daring love above neon lights.
Then they roll the spiked dice, which tumble like credits
from a black & white movie—
life’s book ruined in the wasted sweat.