August 1, 2016

The Past is a Trashed Motel Room

The Past is a Trashed Motel Room

Strange_Place_for_a_Mattress_-_geograph.org.uk_-_310800

by Michael Angel Martin

 

A bed is stripped
down to the mattress
and reeks of butane.
On the wall
above the headboard
hangs an oil painting
of a white rowboat
pulled ashore by two figures
sporting dictatorial mustaches
superimposed in Sharpie.
That same Sharpie defaces
the sea in the background
where a transparent dragon
emerges to breathe—
not fire exactly—
but a speech bubble
reading “fuck you.”
In the bathroom halogens
flare—slow green strobes
projecting mites
mangled and huge
onto the spotty shower curtain
as the ventilator fan huffs
like a sick dog.
Yes. There are glass shards
and mysterious bags
and abandoned clothes
with holes in them, too.
But do not let
the details mislead you.
Once the bed sheets
and paintings are replaced,
and the bathroom
is disinfected,
and a vacuum devours
the indecipherable flakes
from the carpet,
there will be nothing

 

 


Michael Angel Martin is a candidate in Poetry at Florida International University. He also works for O, Miami Poetry Festival. Other poems can be read at Jai-Alai Magazine and Green Mountains Review. He lives in Miami, Fl.

Image: “Strange Place for a Mattress Found at Vitrell Gate, Vernditch Chase.”, by Trish Steel.

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