I must admit, and be forthright…
But, please, don’t listen less for spite:
That though I reside inside your bounds
My birth, at first, oh south Broward town
Occurred quite many more miles away
Than I, quite plainly, am willing to say;
But then, why should I bow meekly to that
Quick impulse when, by matter of fact
Three quarters or more of your denizens
Come from locales – like mine – frozen
Now swimming and sunning in defrosted mirth
And jogging Young Circle, or nearby turf.
Yes, from here on out I shall transform to be
Proud amid this august company
In which I find myself at last
Who list’n’d as secret wink was passed
And did forego your West Coast namesake
For paradise where the daily surf break
(Or were YOU the triumphant nomial victor
o’er that shaky place never too far from Richter?)
May crest a bit subtler – but no less sublime.
Sure, who would not rather spend his time
…or hers, if you’ll forgive the line…
In peaceful gait down Broadwalk’s regalia
Than hustled and bustled in brash California?
Where folks, sad to say, think they have it made
Not having relaxed or plied their trade
In tranquil suspension where one can find
Small side streets and international airlines
Or if sweet teeth are the norm in your crew
Sat down at Jaxson’s and tried to get through
A kitchen sink ice cream the size of a whale
Nestled nicely ‘twixt Miami and Lauderdale.
And so, Hollywood, I do beg your kind leave
To stay here and soak up more balmy reprieve
From latitudes far from both thawing and sand
And leave cyclic seasons to people whose plan
Requires four different wardrobes for just one
Poor body that simply needs…more sun.