"All full up here!"
Windows packed to the brim
with goose down pillows and
little feathers floating from the cracks.
Those, suffocating, small-soft places
Warm like fresh dried laundry.
Sweet and wet and juicy. Mangos.
Hotel California smells like sex and linen.
There's painter's tape on the walls and
a choke coming on. Coming. Coming.
The red light gleams out of the darkness, neon
an alarm clock at 3 am.
No Vacancy.
I'm all full up here, stuffed and over
fed.
I'm all full up here.