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Last Caress
A soggy couch flipped
on its arm the only boost to a broken window hidden around back of the hotel. Finger tips scrape the ledge arms shake as I pull myself up. The rot of stagnant urine suffocates before I’m through the window. From the mezzanine I look down on the lobby stripped – the gold leafing pilfered, oak banisters hang pieces splintered on the cracked marble floor caked with dirt, charred garbage, black soot, ornate pillars decaying from water damage. I remember Café Metropolis, the stage, the couches, the chessboard tables, the magazine racks overflowing with zines, the clouds painted on the ceiling… Glass crunches soggy cardboard squishes as I climb the stairs. The dirt ground into the grout, the hallway lined with kids, a table covered in stickers … The door to the roof rusted off its hinges, the bottom impaled into the concrete. Sweaty kids moshing with black eyes… I stand at the corner of the roof staring down at Market and River streets the sign, HOTEL STERLING, towers behind me, stoic against the neglect. The fourteen year old girl in Jnco jeans and blue streaks in her hair… I lean against the bottom of the G as the wind screams through the gaps of the huge metal letters… …our lives embedded into those floors and soaked into those walls.
#Unreal #Poem #SweatyMoshing #LastCaress #Hotel #Love #Sex
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