You always said you wanted to go to Spain to gaze upon
the topless bathers in their natural habitat.
Well, I went for you (since you never would).
Their skin has sagged, and become knock-off leather bags.
Their eyes withered, and locked in place until they became statues,
Like most permanent fixtures in Barcelona’s day life – haggard.

You always said you wanted to go to Golden Gai
and bring back a poster for prosperities sake.
Well, I went for you (since I know you forgot),
and the rot has set in amongst the shanty clubs.
And once it had its fill of plaster board, a void took its place,
rushed through with a rattle of bones and ticker tape
you could almost hear from Kabukichō.

Eyelids glued open straining to see.
Next time, I’ll send you a postcard.
Just sit in your chair, lay back, dream of Ol’ Blighty
and take one for the team.

Meanwhile I’ll be off getting a tan, and
drinking sangria ‘til my brain falls out.
I love the way you drop haggard in there at the end of the first stanza, and this is brilliant as a whole, great comic undertones.
Congratulations on winning Writing of the Week. There was a nice selection of excellent writing this week, so take this with a pinch of sugar.