Head spinning at 45RPM.

The question was posed

The answer forthcoming

“You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave”

The motel was less appealing from the inside

Beggars can’t be choosers we told ourselves.

We sidled up to the desk

Handed over the requisite amount

Which got us a bed for the night.


The bar remained open through the night

Our request for food, frowned upon.

Two Star, that was pushing it a bit far

Flimsy walls, left little to the imagination.

A sign on the elevator door faded

Bluntly read, USE THE STAIRS.

Bed bugs do bite.

Yes there were vomit stains.


Morning could not have come soon enough.

Interrupted sleep from hissing pipes.

We showered in the sink.

The view from the single window

Showed scavengers raiding trash bins.

A sister perhaps OR

Could this have been The Eagles, Hotel California?

© Chris Black. October 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

#Poetry #SpokenWord                                    Listen to a spoken word version @https://soundcloud.com/the-poets-poet-1




6 thoughts on “Head spinning at 45RPM.

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