Poems

Amid These Ruins

This hotel is an old school,
one feels it in spite of time.
In spite of the demolished walls,
the broken spaces. The people who live here
seem to be passing through. A few hours
a day. A few months.
Probably
they have their own rooms,
but they give the impression of constantly changing.
I have been looking for my room amid these ruins for some time.
I couldn't say how long, but now
I have come out into what must have been a garden
or some rear patio.
From here all the spaces are inverted/reversed.
Perhaps I will recognize the face/appearance of my room
by its back/other side. Or perhaps I will recognize from it
some sound.