The Paradox of Paradise

As my powder blue convertible
putters to the top of a hill
my eyes are met by the sweeping 
grandeur of blue sky
	         blue water
	         green fields
	         bright sunlight
	         gentle trade winds
	         swaying palm trees
	         the full range of
	         seductive tropical cliches and
silence, save for the steady purr
of the 30 year old air-cooled wonder behind me.
I am struck
by the beauty of it all
the remarkableness of this one spot
this jewel
stuck on the side of a clot of dirt
revolving around an ancient star
somewhere in the midst of a vast
and mysterious universe, this little speck
of paradise.

And how truly lucky I am to be here,
even if only for a while
this though pervades me and momentarily
soothes me.

Now my little blue convertible
delivers me to a 
quaint seaside eatery
where a Barbie doll
sits at my table and,
while my eyes rest on her cleavage
she recites from memory
the contents of today's 
unwritten breakfast menu:
A litany of tropical delights
mangoesandguavasandpassionfruits
and of course
pineapples
that not long ago
		were actually grown
		on the island that now
		occupies the middle
		of my horizon
		which has more recently	
		abandoned its pineapples
		in favor of a more profitable 
		cash-crop--tourists.

"Would you like something to start with?"
Barbie asks,
as my gaze returns across the channel
across the years and
back to her soft cleavage.
 
"Yes, I'd like a cup of coffee,"
I reply
recalling the owner's penchant
for real, strong, heavier than lead
mediterranean brew and
my pavlovian glands activating
at the very thought.
 
"Oh, I'm sorry, "
Barbie says,
"We don't have coffee today."
Which announcement is enough
to divert my eyes at last
to hers.
 
"What do you mean,
you don't have coffee today?"
I wonder aloud
trying to imagine 
in a split second
what bizarre Pacific cult 
I have stumbled onto that 
denies its denizens
the morning Java, but
only on Fridays.

"No," Barbie says,
"You see, it's been raining a lot lately
and our water supply
has been contaminated by the runoff."
 
So forget your bangs and whimpers
THIS is how Civilization ends:
it rains in paradise
and the brilliant rainbow
that arches over the lush green mountains
becomes the international symbol for
No Coffee on Friday.