The Chelsea Star Hotel
what's there to say?
It's a piece of shit with
this metal sheet floor,
little diamond shapes like the
back of a fire engine
luggage goes tunk tunk clunk
four beds to room,
woo hoo
I can't wait to clutch at my pillow in sleep
waiting for the pretty breath
of dorm-mate girl (saw H&M bag
but you never know)
and the glint red moon
of her knife
No comments:
Post a Comment