Tonight's Poet Corner: The Royal Hotel

The Royal Hotel
by Belinda Roddie

Down in the basement
of the Royal Hotel, there's
a man who will harvest
the organs of nobles. He'll
sew up their wounds with
a needle made of bone, and
he'll kiss them on the forehead
as their lips turn to silver.

Down in the basement
of the Royal Hotel, the man's
wife cries so much that
her tears fill the teapots
kept in cupboards so dusty
that the spiders stay away,
and the whole space smells
like cheap disinfectant.

Up in the lobby
of the Royal Hotel, two
lovers roll their suitcases
full of idols and wine. They
will pray to their gods on
the thirteenth floor, once
sunrise has revealed all
of Mother Earth's scars.

And on the top story
of the Royal Hotel, a prince
from a remote nation feels
pain in his side. As he wakes
from bad dreams, he remembers
his appointment, before
realizing that he's also
missing his spleen.