Ode to a Hotel Bathtub

poetry

Your wide porcelain mouth yawns at me,

Inviting me to fill you

And drain you,

As you swallow a few more gallons of hot weary traveler soup

The cold tile floor along your border

Littered with discarded wash cloths and towels and

Tiny bottles of lotion and shampoo.

Three more fluffy towels are neatly piled on the generic laminate wood end-table

Still folded, still pristine with their precise terry-cloth angles

They perform a charming ruse that suspends disbelief:

These things have never been touched, never used.

These towels,

This bathtub

Has been in patient waiting for you

And only you

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s