This month’s “Versed in Florida” poet is Allison Serraes. She’s a graduate student studying English literature at Florida Gulf Coast University. She also plays a bit of ukulele.
The Way She Plays Ramona plays her ukulele in an antique electric chair: Nylon vibrates under cool hands like lightning strumming keys on kites like finger-picking sonofusionlike palms on plasma lamps— like electric. Ukulele, ukulele, thick and cottony in the throat like yucca. Booming into the soundbox of the sky. Ukulele, ukulele, Leilani, luna, luminous— electric eel, lanikai, kilowatts under water like blow-dryers in a bathtub bubbling tides waxing and waning lanikai, lanikai, undercurrent, wave current wavelength, lambda equals velocity over frequency, amplitudes and oscillating acoustics humming over humps and plucked into atmospheric electrostatic discharge. Fluid ukulele, of hands, of islands, of mahogany, mahalo, hula-hula dancing, medulla oblongata of breathing and blood pressure ebbing and flowing, of lobes, of stems, of auditory cortices, of charged neurons— electric.