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What Am I Doing Here??

It was a honeymoon suite,
in Ixtapa.
Heat emanated 
from cracks in the street.
The only relief 
was a ceiling fan,
while iguanas perched as gargoyles 
in corners of the room.
Wizened catalpas clung to spindled limbs,
as a burro downed bottled beer.
Staggering,
it settled in the dirt
as I wondered,
what am I doing here?