It was easy to get into.
Someone had been there before and knew the tune.
There you had a hotel for a song
and a boy bringing
drinks to you and no other
guests. It was easy to get into
when I applied myself, someone who made
the grade, someone well
checked. Let go
the string, lift the kite
my kite coach said.
In the background unchecked
men and women
grew flowers showy
sold bananas almost free
for some reason.
A winning smile kicked a winning kick.
The crowd went wild
with a clap-clap, stomp-stomp
it was easy to get into.
We were so far from the race
at every revolution
of the fast cars only a baby
would cry at the terrible sound
like a hundred trains on a hundred tracks
like the baby’s baby screaming and uncomfortable
in the future like no one would come.
There
from the open windows
in the private rooms the kite
meant to celebrate
an easy reach into
blue blue sky
but engineered on lines in the wind
always a dictator in the works.