Vacant
Scroll
The Poem
Vacant
If the world stoppedI would go to the hotelwhere all the doorsare different colorsand every roomis a mystery.
I would go at night.I would want a pooland a cloud to put it onand somewhere above mea planedropping joyfrom a magical cakewhose plane it isnobody knows
Dropping joy from a magical cake
but when I hear it comingI run to the pooland stand therewith a box on my headso I don’t getall the joy on me.
I know.The box has tiny holes.Nobody sees the holesbut through themI can see everythingthe doorsthe colorsthe mystery of what’s insidethe people who might bein therepeople like mestanding at their windowswondering about the poolwondering about the cakewondering whose plane that isand whetherif they came downwe would havesomething to sayto each other.
I think we would.I think we would talkfor a long timeabout the cake.
My cat won’t leave the room.He says it’s too colorful.We both knowhe’s color blindbut I don’t mention itbecause he has his reasonsand his reasonsare his ownand alsohe’s a catand catsare allowedto have reasonsthat don’tmake senseto anyoneincludingthe cat.
The hotel is vacant.I am the only one herewith my boxand my pooland the plane overheaddropping its joythat I mostlydodge.
I don’t think aboutmy goals here.I don’t think aboutanything hereexcept the doorsand what’s behind themand whetherthe world stoppedor just got far enough awaythat I can see itwithout being in itwhich is,it turns out,the exact distanceI have alwayswanted.
Far enough to see.Not far enough to disappear.
The box has tiny holes.I can see youlooking.You can’t see mesmiling.
The box has tiny holes
The cathas chosena corner.
The plane is coming back.
I can hear it.
I’m already at the pool.