something left on the doorknob, firmly turned
pushed in against the mildewed air, sucked out
having been locked in, behind the sealed wood
key card fell silent on worn nap, dingy tan
lung strangled heart sounded like doors closing
to those padded rooms I ran away from. She went
to get a coke and would knock, I think, soon
low budget porn, this sticky room, she and I
all looked like empty brown beer bottles
knock on the door made me remember I had not
bathed for three days, but as long as I paid
she would let herself smell like those olive
colored blankets, wouldn't make any noise
A contest entry
- Woman in a motel by AJ Morelli.
2000 points, ended May 27, 2008, 22 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
excellent title, so many implications... you have some wonderful imagery here, especially the beer bottles...
this contest brought out a lot of melancholy, along with the whores and johns... i sometimes forget the sadness that lives behind many motel room doors...
thanks for this
al
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