The Waste Land Hotel

After exploring a hotel exhibition in the depths of winter.

Image Credit: 
Public Domain

Cream under nose
The baby needs tending
And then the eyes
Flu eyes
Bloody cold eyes
Everything is dust

The dust of dust
No smell
No heart
It ate itself
Is that all there is
And I’m not hungry anyway

The Waste Land
We were there yesterday
In and out the dusty
Blue rooms
Story of crumbling
Windows weeping

Each room said
Something forlorn and dying
I am sad and I need you
I am so alone in this world

Waves licked the sky
Window world stood outside
The barren building
Patient but it moves on

Cells of derelict lives
Pigeon droppings
Icing on the window ledge

Jane Hart is a painter and maker of assemblages and writer. She is also a counsellor working with children and adults.

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