A Hotel Room
It’s a grimy room, a fan creak overhead.
The paint is peeling, the cable tv disconnected
The walls are painted the color of lead.
Hotel rooms make me feel lonely.
I have no friends, no one to talk to; only
The bathroom tap drips forlornly.
Although it’s the middle of the night,
Its not quite darkambient light
Filters in; from somewhere out of sight.
A man walks down the noisy street
On heavy, ponderous, deliberate feet.
Next door there’s a Dealer’s Meet.
‘Sell more batteries and be a winner.’
Says a fluttering, waving banner.
‘Elite battery is always a stunner.’
