Sunday, December 6, 2009

642. MANHATTAN BED AND BREAKFAST

MANHATTAN BED AND BREAKFAST
(with some Leonard Cohen bullshit on the overhead)
Softest pillow down like gooseflesh mending
time and broken wings together mixed with
that same open-range sadness of too
many wonderful vistas. In this
evasive context the entire universe,
it seems, sings. Sallow man coming
forth in a very velvet and purple jacket,
He'd have nothing to say if asked, so
why bother. The sink faucet, dripping,
would sound just like him, if I let it.
Two coffee cups on the perfect shelf.
The shaded lamp, throwing hotel light
on some Zelda's face until even the
newspapers strewn about want to
kiss it too. As much as anyone,
anyway. 'This is this', they offer.
Manhattan the island, New
York City, the place.

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