I want to see the tattoo on your shoulder
taste the indigo ink
I am feeling better you know
at the center of a burning chocolate cake
tripping into a hotel with
floral sheets communal
under blue light
Sure! The light is blue, and so is the hotel manager
he hasn’t seen your tattoo yet
but will it work for him?
That’s not how life works, does it?
One man’s wonder is another man’s boredom.
We pass by so many hotels
hoping to find a manager who looks at us
while handing over the keys
to our by-the-hour rooms.
Life is most precious when
the line for the cola
only ends with the vending machine
and suddenly you are at the hospital
thinking about that one hotel you
stayed at in ’94, 3 years into your marriage
to a girl who liked singing
about casual footwear,
you remember seeing a cheerful manager then
but it might have been made up
such is the delusion of nostalgia
always sweeter, always more.