A Series Of Hotel Rooms
A Series of Hotel Rooms
I call it mine but it isn’t:
I paid for it, little whore. Is home where I return or where I’m headed? You’ve called it yours; she calls it hers, he his. Say: She was there, she was there, she was there. No you can’t come in. Tell me where you were last night. Just checking in for awhile.
I call it home but it isn’t:
I’m rougher with it, dirtier. Is it right now or closer to always? Me mine, and the sum of this; I add my own juices, my breath. Say: I was there, I was there, I was there. I love you now but I won’t tomorrow – by then I’ll scarcely remember you. Tell me where you were last night, damn it.
Just checking out for awhile.
And:
I.
That was the greatest room they ever stayed in. They partied like hell there, he puked all over it. And he’s sorry about that now, because he can barely remember what it was like.
II.
They were fighting like cats and dogs back then, so she spent the whole evening trying to seduce him – what she wore, how she moved, all designed to make him love her again. They fought like cats and dogs. She should have known it was already too late.
III.
Whoa, you’re not asking for money again now are you? So tell me what will it buy me? Will it buy me a friend, will you be my little friend? Will it buy me respect? Do you respect me?
How long until I never hear from you again?
IV.
He stayed some extra days just to come but shit he’s tired. He’s worn as hell and in the debate between rest or adventure adventure doesn’t win. So he lies around all day and doses and flips channels and even orders room service rather than going out.
Some might consider this a wasted opportunity but he doesn’t because even eating in and lying around he knows where he’s at.
V.
It is such a comfort this one after the pretension of Vegas proper. God she hates that fucking place.
VI.
I call it mine but it isn’t:
I paid for it, little whore. Is home where I return or where I’m headed? You’ve called it yours; she calls it hers, he his. Say: She was there, she was there, she was there. No you can’t come in. Tell me where you were last night. Just checking in for awhile.
I call it home but it isn’t:
I’m rougher with it, dirtier. Is it right now or closer to always? Me mine, and the sum of this; I add my own juices, my breath. Say: I was there, I was there, I was there. I love you now but I won’t tomorrow – by then I’ll scarcely remember you. Tell me where you were last night, damn it.
Just checking out for awhile.
And:
I.
That was the greatest room they ever stayed in. They partied like hell there, he puked all over it. And he’s sorry about that now, because he can barely remember what it was like.
II.
They were fighting like cats and dogs back then, so she spent the whole evening trying to seduce him – what she wore, how she moved, all designed to make him love her again. They fought like cats and dogs. She should have known it was already too late.
III.
Whoa, you’re not asking for money again now are you? So tell me what will it buy me? Will it buy me a friend, will you be my little friend? Will it buy me respect? Do you respect me?
How long until I never hear from you again?
IV.
He stayed some extra days just to come but shit he’s tired. He’s worn as hell and in the debate between rest or adventure adventure doesn’t win. So he lies around all day and doses and flips channels and even orders room service rather than going out.
Some might consider this a wasted opportunity but he doesn’t because even eating in and lying around he knows where he’s at.
V.
It is such a comfort this one after the pretension of Vegas proper. God she hates that fucking place.
VI.