A POEM - THINGS THAT SHOULD HAVE MADE SENSE DIDN'T ANYMORE

THINGS THAT SHOULD HAVE MADE SENSE DIDN’T ANYORE
He told me he flew to Denver,
Arrived at night and the hostel was closed.
“there are hostels in America?”
“oh yes, yes. Very good hostels in America.”
It was news to me, but then why would I know?
I stayed with friends or in fields.
I had no use for hostels in my home country.
The thought seemed ridiculous.
“so I have to stand outside for nine hours,
Waiting for the reception to open.”
“you shoulda just banged on the fuckin’ door,”
I said, making banging motions with my fist,
Because back in those days,
Even when speaking with someone fluent in English,
I still did charades out of habit.
“I did, I did. For one hour, I knock. Nothing!”
I loved how his blind little Japanese eyes
Widened and twinkled and blazed when he made a point.
I loved it all, again, for the first time in weeks.
“so in the morning, finally somebody open the door.
I stand- stond- stood there for nine hours! I think,
‘why the fuck the reception not open 24 hours?!’”
“that’s some American hospitality for ya,” I laughed.
And it was.
Things were beyond making sense in America and Europe
And all the other ‘first’ world countries.
They tried to make so much sense
That everything was lost by the wayside.
Everything made so much sense
That one had to stand outside a place all night,
Just to book a room to sleep in.