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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It was an old hotel, and it had its quirks But I'm O.K. as long as the hot water works. The owner smiled, wished a good night, But bad guys moved in, when I turned off the light. They dosed the room, the vapor spread Were they hiding in the ceiling - above my bed? I moved a bench to the fan in the wall Tried to breathe just that, tried to forestall. But the bench was too narrow, what else could I do: I would sleep in the bathroom, leave no clue. So I took a sheet and towels galore Turned on the bathroom fan, locked the door I put my mouth to the opening where air wafts through My body folded like a snake in a shoe I didn't sleep enough, there was not enough air, But some bad guy vapors still got in there. I walked out before dawn, sat in a chair I thought why they persecute, it just wasn't fair. I staggered like stilts were under my legs. My brain felt like it was scrambled eggs. I had a raging headache, eyes bloodshot red I bet a thousand neurons died inside my head. Nobody I could tell, who would believe this true They'd start by asking "Who'd persecute you?" I got a text later that day The owner hoped I had liked my stay I couldn't give stars, though it wasn't their fault That I felt like a corpse, rising from a vault. You see, I bring a curse from the tristate Sadists latched onto me, that's my fate. Contempt pervaded them, like water in a sponge I should talk to cops but can't take the plunge.
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