I had this dream and followed it,
drove to Lisbon airport parked my car
and bought a ticket to Cuba
on a charter flight
with a few seats left
leaving in the afternoon.
I don’t like flying
but after coffee and brandies
it didn’t worry me anymore.
Don’t much recall the actual flight
woke up a few times
and had a beer.
When we landed
the charter tourists boarded an air conditioned coach
taking them to a resort out of town,
while I took a Lada taxi
to down-town Havana
and booked into a small family run hotel
allowed under this regime.
My room didn’t have air conditioning
but a fan on its ceiling which rotated ten times a minute.
Walked around narrow, hot streets
looked at aristocratic buildings full of life and splendid neglect,
listened to Cuban music at local inn,
drank rum, admired picturesque poverty
and women with big tits,
till kind people brought me to my hotel.
Awoke shortly before dawn
sat by the window and watched the sun arise.
Someone was going to pick me up at nine
and drive me around town in a red 1955 Cadillac.
That’s precisely why I came here,
‘cos when Fidel is gone
the Miami mob will come
and bring American style democracy to this island.