I must admit, and be forthright…
But, please, don’t listen less for spite:

That though I reside inside your bounds
My birth, at first, oh south Broward town

Occurred quite many more miles away
Than I, quite plainly, am willing to say;

But then, why should I bow meekly to that
Quick impulse when, by matter of fact

Three quarters or more of your denizens
Come from locales – like mine – frozen

Now swimming and sunning in defrosted mirth
And jogging Young Circle, or nearby turf.

Yes, from here on out I shall transform to be
Proud amid this august company

In which I find myself at last
Who list’n’d as secret wink was passed

And did forego your West Coast namesake
For paradise where the daily surf break

(Or were YOU the triumphant nomial victor
o’er that shaky place never too far from Richter?)

May crest a bit subtler – but no less sublime.
Sure, who would not rather spend his time

…or hers, if you’ll forgive the line…
In peaceful gait down Broadwalk’s regalia

Than hustled and bustled in brash California?
Where folks, sad to say, think they have it made

Not having relaxed or plied their trade
In tranquil suspension where one can find

Small side streets and international airlines
Or if sweet teeth are the norm in your crew

Sat down at Jaxson’s and tried to get through
A kitchen sink ice cream the size of a whale

Nestled nicely ‘twixt Miami and Lauderdale.
And so, Hollywood, I do beg your kind leave

To stay here and soak up more balmy reprieve
From latitudes far from both thawing and sand

And leave cyclic seasons to people whose plan
Requires four different wardrobes for just one

Poor body that simply needs…more sun.