For the last ten minutes before checkout
Your view of the world is just a peephole in a door
that you’re squinting into
in a hotel room someone else reserved for you
paid for on your behalf and took the room keys
and although you’ve redecorated
you’ve never been able to leave
the bars on the windows facing infinity’s brick walls
are the space where you have grown
a weakness in your vision is all you can and will have known
stuck between the wisdom of the ancients and the accuracy of artificial intelligence
every image comes into your eye upside down
after the room is cleaned and reused and reused and reused again and again
you wonder ever so briefly
how sad must god be
to be forever alone throughout eternity
instead of temporarily
like you or me
to be able to see more than what the peephole could ever show
to unequivocally know…
and as you count down the final bastard minutes until the hotel clerk e-mails your receipt
the light of insanity is still shining through door hinges pouring in
like liquid since hope is your main vulnerability
and whatever during this resort experience that there is that you couldn’t learn
leave it for housekeeping before you burn
they’ll be around shortly to sweep your life up
and the saddest of gods hopes you enjoyed your stay
whether your blind ass ever wondered that deeply or not…