from Human Hours

The Amenities

Enchantée, says the key in my hand.
When I try to turn it, it turns to sand.

Time is an upgrade, says the front desk.
Reserved for our most valued guests.

Time is an anemone, says the new hire.
Enemy. Amenity. Profanity. Dire.

Whatever you’ve forgotten,
they provide. Loved one,

plot line, pack of minutes?
Glass eyes, false teeth, all sleep is gratis.

How sweet
we look in our hotel linens.