Your House Is My House

Cecily Iddings

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.


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.