the tourist purveyors itching for crowds
the fertile ground pioneered by sun-seeking misfits
has prepped the sinking paradise for influx––
the Malay government straight-faced aims
for a thirty percent increase in tourists,
from 1.1 to 1.5 million.
Welcome pan-Asian package tours,
The last neglected patch of the nature
behind Station One, across from Frendz
was not turned into a
showcase for tropical bounties
that brought the
first wave of freedom-seeking misfits.
It is now a glaring box of Korea-financed
construction rising how many stories?
The weight of an island ready to sink into
itself––planning, what planning?
Puka beach next on the horizon,
then onto other backpacker-prepped islands.
Still, Boracay is cheap––malleable, nonexclusive.
There are plenty of human owned businesses
along the beach, from an era when actual
people could afford to start beachside businesses.
Many are gone––Mango Ray's and others––
and when they disappear they are
replaced by boutique boxes, fast food chains.
Boracay is no Waikiki where bulky concrete
long ago dwarfed the last tiki hut.
There is still more real human life-pulse
than in Tulum,
which maintains a Mayan Riviera eco-chic that
equates with semi-exclusivity.
There is life on this beach, real DJs at Exit Bar,
Red Pirate musicians with soul ––
less & less room to move, still a pulsing heart.