Drunk people reaching from caves
Flowers trumpet out of their eyes, they're smiling

Friday evening around seven
a fire siren is going off

Zoom in on two teenagers in their parent's backyard
They are cranking a home-made red metal siren
It looks like it is made from an old fuse box and a coffee can
It still smells like fresh spray paint

Another higher pitch, grittier siren goes off across town.
Two Rastafarians in a white wood and wicker gazeebo
have a smaller metal siren attached to a long orange extension cord
Small black bats spiral down miniature tin funnels
disappearing into their Rasta eyes

I close my eyes and exhale
watching the sirens move in tropical stereo

It's a rave sign