Gloomy hotel managers

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.

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