I wrapped a scroll around my ankle
It was red with intent
The scarlet letter for he who had no name
I left mine at the door- they insisted
A blank canvas
It jingled as I walked- or stalked
The catacombs, the halls of a mental hospital
Dingy and dilapidated as they were and
From promise dispossessed
It rang around my ankle like the bells of Notre Dame
A call to arms for a tepid Esmeralda
Anchored
It weighed me down when I reached for the clouds
Kept me grounded
Mindful of any pending union
I threw my gauntlet down
Adjusting my toga to mark myself out
From the ogres and the rogues, the unknown
And upwards towards thirty doors that lead only to compromise
The scorching sauna where resentment festers
The unfamiliar face that raises the temperate
The risks you see them taking in all directions.
Violations.
A jacuzzi of fools frolic and debase themselves
Water leaks through the ceiling
Dripping onto the naked shoulder
Of somebody who hasn't been touched in years
A journey wasted, thirst unconquered
A man masturbates at a computer screen as you check your emails
Inbox empty.
Familiar omens grace the scene- disgruntled punters
The same faces circling each other to no avail
Thirty open doors and from the closed one- only snores
Perhaps if I tucked my willy between my legs and pretended to be a lady
Somebody would look up
Staff sit listening to the radio
Immune to my farce as the rest are to my charms
Stone steps lead the way back to a dulled reality
Just like the steps of the famous Boston bar on TV
“Where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came”
As the theme tune goes
I left my name at the door
Put aside my history to take a stab into the unknown
Desperation will do that to you
End