Pictures from Miami Beach

(On this one I offer no preamble or explanation)

Pictures from Miami Beach

It’s that time again, with the mid Winter sun
  high before the start of March,
When a friend of mine posts pictures from Miami Beach,
  on Facebook, for the friends that it may reach

 Blue water and well warmed sand right,
  aqua and coral art deco hotels left,
And bracketing the vanishing point
  he and his friend of the week, seated cheek to cheek,
Who, though charming, ought not be described as a girl

My view of this scene is modernity made bucolic by the internet,
So successful it brings to my senses that old olfactory memory,
  a reminiscent scent, which, despite the added hint of coconut sunscreen,
  takes me back to that one weenie, that one last late one, still on the grill,
Which overheated by old coals (rather than the Florida sun)
  is the last remnant memory of Summer’s July weekend cookout,

You know the one, while forbidden, the temptation rushes the blood,
  for if not overdone you know they are the tastiest,
Um-hum!
  and I’ve been there, had them, and not always between the buns,
Over the years I’ve gagged and choked down my fair share, and with relish,
  of burnt dogs, so alike the both of you in the Orange Juice sun,

Hello Miami Beach friends,
For from here in the isolation of my snow surrounded Waltham home
  I feel for you only envy,
Because, despite my straight Yankee views,
  I find, that like that last textured hot dog,
    I enjoy being well seasoned,
      and a little dark skinned too