The following was sent in by reader Irene Hopkins:
Ode to a Banana Mudslide Afternoon
I'm anticipating the afternoon when I am salty and sandy, after spending the day at the beach amongst the children, the dogs, and the girls in their itsy bitsy bikinis.
That afternoon when I can get through the traffic of people, with accents and matching t-shirts, beep beeping their moped horns.
I'm waiting for that afternoon when, with my beach-hair and sundress, I can drink and smoke at the bar while listening to music, always the music. Because of the drink, I call a cab who kindly takes me to the docks.
I'm dreaming of the moment when my sweater is over my shoulders as it’s gotten a little chilly as I get closer to the water. I see the boaters eating, drinking, fishing, and dancing. They hail me "hello" as I walk past on my way. I hear the whir of the blender.
I taste the first strong syrupy sweetness through my paper straw and finally utter a sigh of relief.