Tuesday, March 19, 2013

POEM - Rat and Turtle at the Dead Hotel


This girl I knew was too cool
Tight curled, close cut flat-top
Cast in auburn
Looking like the poor-little-red-headed-
Step-child of Grace Jones

Product of a Lost Weekend spent in the embrace
Of some wily Leprechaun
Saints Preserve Us! She had some fight in her

She was the perfect match . . . for my friend

If I had just stayed a little longer that summer
Ran away from home, refused to move
That would be me, prostrate in an abandoned pool
My body at rest on hers, our faces joined at the mouth
 
We three spent the evening in ruins
Amid the shambles and wreckage of this eerie hotel

A transplant from Desolation Row
That someone famous had slept in
And then Checked Out for the last time.
I left my heart there; we had always been close

The lie I told myself was my friend
Was just the closest thing, not the dearest
And an open door was still in her heart

When the moonlight wore off I knew
I’d never walk through that door

A punch on the arm
As she passed me in the hall
A generous laugh
At an unsuccessful joke
Were the closest we came
To an affectionate dance

Billy Bragg sang to me
One lonely sleepless night,
It was that line from that song The Saturday Boy
Where Billy sings
“In the end it took me a dictionary /
To find out the meaning of unrequited,”
Like memories of a turtle summer
Chasing Rat through a dead hotel

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