There’d been a rumor
All summer that they
Would close down the midway
By the lake
Everyone in town knew
It was seedy, no place
To bring your kids
For a night of skee-ball
And merry-go-round rides
But for the teens
Who made it their hangout
It was bad news.
Where would they go
Now on Friday nights
To get away from
The expectations parents
And teachers had for them
And let the raucous
Tinny music ease
The transition into adulthood,
The future which, if they
Had to be honest, scared them
More than anything else – the fear
Of STD’s or bad trips
Or losing the privilege
Of taking out their parents’ car
But who among them
Really believed they’d
Shut down the midway
After all it was something
Of an institution in town
Necessary if only as counter-
Point to more wholesome attractions
And for the teens
It was more
Than just a spot to score
Drugs or hook up,
It was a place
To be seen
And let the customs
Of their cliques play out.
They were too naïve
Then to think someone
Would take this from them.
So they kept on
Doing what they’d been doing
Till the last night
Came and they had to leave
The sweet heavy smell
Of fried food and calliope music
and the feel of open
Air to haunt the closed
Spaces of pool halls
And arcades, places
Too small to hold all
They thought they could be