Monday, January 26, 2004


Were you expecting the bed sheets
changed or were you waiting for
chocolates to float down to the pillows?
Sleepy sweets, smear the sheets,
you never tipped for such treatment,
scratchy sheets, pressed and neat.
Is it the chambermaid you ring
for? She left for a better motel.
Not much air from the ventilation box,
curtains never knowing the furious
touch of breeze, pristine and better off.
Movement taunting from every wall
from every place other than where you
lay, but who can bother with rage?
This is where you paid to stay.


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