Nothing Special Anymore

by Gerald Locklin

Toad had always assumed
He would one day make
A return trip to Cuba,
Where he’d enjoyed
A Hemingway Symposium
In the summer of 1997,

Until Obama decreed
He was going to allow
Every Tom, Jose, and Hairy Dick
Not only to visit the fabled isle
And sample its cigars, rums, and
Sugar cane,

But, for a nominal fee,
Take a guided tour of Guantanamo
And, when the tides were right,
Try their hands (and feet and faces)
At their choice of either surfboarding
Or waterboarding.