The Hotel Named Please Poem by Raj Dronamraju

In the hotel named please, I cease to age
Time does not matter here and if it was up to me I'd stop it entirely
In the specific spare minutes of life apportioned to hotel living, a whole lifetime is gone through
Matured, aged, spat out the next day at check-out time (one o'clock)

She's commemorating the proven iniquity that she is now one of them
It's like she stepped off the curb from what's usually expected and into something not known to anyone close to her
She has been temporarily lost and they can feel the resulting damage in the pit of their stomachs

Only coming alive for brief seasonal displays in rooms where the smell of cigarette smoke from past guests still lingers
One can smell that as you watch the TV and count down the seconds until a life is shed like skin, like old belongings
And like your old belongings perhaps someone else checking in mid-day only paying for a couple of hours of occupancy could get some use out of them

Bang goes your occupancy and it has felled the timorous shadows that frequent any hotel lobby
You tried not to draw attention to yourself but only succeeded in drawing more attention to yourself
They will attempt to guess your story as the words of customer service coming out of their mouths don't match the questioning insolence that's coming out of their eyes

I have lived for these few vain hours
So hard to seek out, so hard to collect
I am forward moving taking time to sympathize with her shame even though I don't feel it at all myself
She is mine for the next several hours