Hotel Hell 

HOTEL HELL

Dragged myself in a certain state
to the desk of a
certain hotel
in a certain city
no one at the desk
the lobby deserted
apart from some shady types
pressed the desk bell

with a tired face the taxi-driver
had dropped my case
I tried to suppress a retch
and pointed to the porter rushing up
to the elevator, mumbled
"one room for me and my case".

no end had taken me to this place
just the journey had brought me here
a run-down hotel on a desolate street
neon-signs blinking on&off in misery

whores flaunting an alley away
in the greasy stench of a club street
the whores couldn't charm me anymore
as my love had left me the day before

wanted only a shot of forgetfulness
from a bottle of booze on the cheap
steeped myself in shabbiness
in a hotel bar reeking of piss.

further and further I sank over my barstool
drank deep on pointless yarns
saw life slip away
and woke up
without knowing why
got up, got my case
and I was off
aimless round the world.

© Bart FM Droog, 1998
© translation Willem Groenewegen, 1997
original title: Hotel Hell, from Deze dagen, Passage Publishing Company, Groningen, 1998.
Translation published previously in Beyond!, Northern Voices/Rottend Staal, Newcastle/Groningen, 1997.