Elevator Cowboy, Blues

Another stale hotel room stuffy with too much thinking
sinking me dulling me sitting around too long
crushing my only oxen courage
dulling my axe against a stone
this thin poorly painted drywall instead

I'm getting older in a queen-sized bed
slippery wet hung hues of heaving rubber
such savage courage wrung out
strung out
by all these charging cords
trip wire boobytraps in an ancient modern tomb
infinite hallways, economic floorplans
empty concrete swimming pools in stagnant glass rooms
an aging nude in recline circa Twentieth Century

cloistered americana
coffee-stained confessional kneeling penance with fat families
cigarette strangers cloud me in colorless curiosity
affable me, wanderer
it's a sluggard role but the pull is a good fire
some new sunset in some new city
empty as a curtained closet
dangling plastic hangers like rings on a gypsy's knuckle
empty as this tiny refrigerator
cold for nothing
for nobody
as alone as King James in his nightstand castle.

TA