the bright ones run alone into the night

the lights come on at
six-thirty every morning
but you don’t care because
you’re already gone in your mind

you were up at 4 a.m.
gulping the swill coffee

you’ve taken a piss and shaved
and counted your money

you haven’t slept
but getting out of this place
is more important than sleep
and you want fresh air

you knew what it would
be like here
before you arrived

your back stooped
all you own in a shoulder bag
your empty pages
stuffed in a single side-pocket

at check-in you
gave them a name
but you’re uncertain whether
you have spoken
your name or the name
of a dead man

they want to know who
sent you and where you’re from

but they don’t care
how you got here or why

looking around
you realize you’ve fallen
into a trap

the snoring is a coded
message
a riddle you must solve
on your own—but your life
has become an unanswerable lie
as you walk out the door

tonight
returning to your bed
amid the stench and piles of
cheap crime novels
you will see the bright
ones run alone
into the night


TS

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