Motel Blues (poem)

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It’s raining again

We get that a lot here

We get all kinds of things around here

Mother might be worried

She often is

Sometimes to a fault

It’s not her fault though

She never got over being dead

The fruit cellar’s the best place for her

At least until it all blows over

Because it will all blow over

And things will go back to normal

And she can come out of the fruit cellar

And sit by her window

And we might even go for a little picnic

When the weather gets better of course

It will get better

We get all kinds of things around here

It can get lonesome here sometimes

But I’ve got my books

Including the ones she doesn’t quite know about

Got my taxidermy too

Birds, squirrels, whatever’s good and dead

So it never feels that lonely

And it never gets that lonely

With your mother by your side

All kinds

Of things

All kinds…

But wait

There’s a car pulling up now

I know it’s going to be bad news

But I’ve got my bottle

And mother’s still in the fruit cellar

But that can change

And change fast

“Good evening. Would you like a room?”