Hotel Fragments

“Well I lost God in a New York minute, don’t know about you but my heart’s not in it” AWAKEN bluedream at 9pm on the tropical evening where the moon rises - why? and the moon rises - perfect blue the color of a cartoon ocean and the moon mocking white mirror across the reflected rippling of the water.   Stumbling awoke 9pm in the bluedream of white drywall illuminated the color of enveloping curtains, a dream with passages neither below nor above, condemned, thirst and sickness, stumbling in panties and a t-shirt across the carpet, couches too clean, magazines placed like decals, fall, a sliding glass door where the moonlight reflects like water across the room rippling blue in the dreamy sapphire light that nothing else but the mystery can conjure. Try SO HARD and escape it for what? It only returns. Here it is. Welcome back to the dream. Did you flee from it, looking for crystals, but all they did was bleed water like smashed fruit? Did you welcome the light, or are you blinded by th

“But never - never feel like that. I just want you to remember. When you’re alone in their realm, when you’re lost among the halflings and terror, know to the bottom of it all - you will never be them. You will never sink to that depth. I want you to know among the gnomes and cottaging - you’re better than them. And you always will be.” Whatever sun could set across the gold of a yellow brick road reflecting internal like a glass of water before a windowsill until the whole thing shines, glass turning to gold and maybe the dumbest can take it for some shining path, preventing with spears the grasping fingers from seizing it up to covet. “What do you need that for?” they might ask and the animal can say nothing except to invite his own death. Pity.

And on the last day, when death came - what they promised without end continued on limping behind the scenes and the conductor looked around knowing that he had been deserted. All the devils were absent and he was left alone in the Hell he had built for them. Judgement came down from the rafters of the theatre and whistling through the trees, through golden afternoon sunset, was the sickening, piercing sound of justice at least a dagger - et tu? to no one. Judgement comes when utter loneliness leaves the sinner vulnerable to the circling white vultures above. The conductor on the darkened stage, the audience flocking outside the police line, the devils all packed and gone, and the utter loneliness of a failed lucifer - hell, long since locked from the inside, had slammed its iron bars once-final. So the prince and the duchess awoke to the same phonecall the next morning. Far past the honeygold sunlight of mushrooms and honeycomb blossoming in the skull of the lion, the world was cloake