I Went With a Dentist

I went with a dentist who liked to get high,
in a jeep, down a dirt road
cut through elephant grass grown
above my head, throwing dust
into the sunlight as boys 
with autumn leaves would,
to the sea, where


We rode a hollow tree
rowed by a man standing under
a straw umbrella hat, among chickens and
people who took up less room then
I could, ever,
across blue water where
like logs bobbed
to a white sand beach.


We walked through a screen of palms that,
once inside their green shade,
broke the light into golden spears
and turned the cook fire's 
smoke to incense and, while the pigs
lordly went where they would, we stood
by the well.


A woman came toward me
through the lights curtain, polished mahogany
mother-of-pearl, soft shadow
of breasts swaying
in rhythm with her arms as they pulled
her dead legs made useless by being
shot in the back.