Its morning on Tel Aviv beach
a clamour for umbrellas and beds
the suntan lotion flows
onto countless bellies and heads
The macho-mechanical lifeguard
applies his seemly salami tights
ready to tackle the mindless
and precocious kids on Lilo’s fights
The browned beach-being
lathers up her orange-peel thighs
I should have avoided
that dessert last night, she sighs
A veritable feast awaits
creaking boulder holders
ample well fed flesh
crayfish backs and shoulders
The sun-dried regular
butters up her marshmallow butt
then rolls over to assist her man
do his much loved gut
The Coppertone anointed glow
of feral fur-clad backs
and flimsy pain defying
body splitting slacks
The endless parade passing by
from delectable girl figures
to thunder-thighs and bellies
accompanied by inevitable sniggers
The girl in Gucci shoes
with a high-heel swagger
determined but doomed
she ends in a soft sand stagger
The tight limbed stunner
does her best G-string glide
oblivious to the latent seeds
of impending cellulite slide
The 18 carat woman watches
as the stunner is fawned
if I had legs like that she thinks
I’d sell them or get them pawned
The army leave lads
strut their cocky stuff
fine tuned antennae out
they sweep the beach for fluff
The board-walk bimboy glides
an oiled steroidal stride
sculptured large and firm
bold with futile pride
Two tough guys have a play fight
one slips and pulls a muscle
a final drag on his Camel
stretchered off amidst the hustle
The haphazard piano-key grin
of the wizened ice cream vendor
promising ecstasy on a stick
in thirst-quenching splendour
The sly Shekel short-change shark
smiles as another tourist is had
don’t count your change buddy
too bad, too bad
From the dirty horizon
the tepid sea laps the shore
lathered and loud bathers enter
then more and more
The glorious Mediterranean
white sun-drenched beaches
adorned with scalpelled babes
with bottle-blond bleaches
The salt stained Speedos
the aerosol-spray lycra tights
a simmering patchwork quilt
of endless sounds and sights
The gunboats like lizards laze
binoculars ready they trawl
while on the beach
the lifeguard’s wax and drawl
And so they proclaim
cigarette and cellphone in hand
this is it, we’ve made it
made it to the promised land
Its Saturday, the Sabbath
its Tel Aviv at war
its a beach day
who would want any more?
No-one in their right mind
for this is Tel Aviv
and almost anything goes
as they say, se la vie
The contended tinkle of chains
the confident costume-jewelled Jew
latter day crusaders
amongst the infidel, so few
But, somehow there’s a feeling
that under the shallow calm
there lies a certain sense
of impending harm
Maybe if the surface is scratched
an assessment will show
they’re much more Palestinian
than they care to know
