Aloha? No.

 I love the way I hate this place.

We left Hawai`i in '85. Good riddance

To the cockroaches and the high rent,

The even higher humidity and the rock fever.

Standing over a sink in Seattle one night 

I heard Garrison Keilior on the radio talking

In Blaisdell Arena about the warm air

Caressing his face. I became mystified

By the sudden tears caressing my nose.

I was advising students from Hawai`i who were

Attending the University of Washington:

Garrett from Pearl City, Shelly from Wailuku,

Clarissa from Kaneohe, the same town 

Where my wife was raised. Homesick,

They brought a luau to the Northwest 

Each April, small pieces of Hawai`i

In orchids, haupia, hulas and ukuleles

But there is no way to bring small pieces

Of Hawai`i to anyplace else and have them fit.

So we came back, lashed by my wife's

Longing for the caresses of the wind

That I could not give her myself

In those dark, cold nights of Seattle.

Now the warm evenings wrap is together.

I hate the way I love this place.