SORDID HOTEL ROOMS
O the layers of lives and lies lived
in sordid hotel rooms
of the sharp wants that cant find want
sharp cants that cannot feel,
of kin or ken that can’t feel or be fed.
Lies lived in sordid hotel rooms.
Outside insects drone
the endless drone of insect industry
drinking madly from the Sourceagone Spring
nature’s dark subterranean trough
our fall harvest, glands dancing
our skin reveals its melody
The cadence of loneliness subsides.