No "Vacancy! sign"

Like a shot of gold in lapis lazuli
the island is in the gem
and normal strange.
One volcano, trickling
hot sizzle rock,
dripping into the bay like snails sliming
burning the blue.
verdant treetop-hills
that from far away could be mistaken for a mossy rock formation,
grown strange in lack of room.
There is a square blip, a spot
of hard soil and no vegetation
because the island,
through its growing from magmatic outward
always assumed a hotel. 
the gold is best left in the stone,
says the considerate jewler,
and the island chest hurts like
the smell of sour milk
in the hot tropics. 


-Citron