I see the private lives
of the big girls
who run this motel

in the light socket
emptying its shoes
of charred moths

in the dead roaches
dropping apart among the plastic
furls & wisps
of green carpet

the toilet (A smashed doll)
has been broken
for days  no one comes to fix it
Though the heater
works well;
it was clogged when I first came…

The girls are sisters  A blind man
visits them every day

who may be their father  He knows
every step & brick
near the buildings
tho he uses the pay phone

Twice already
people have come
looking for you Judy
Whoever you are
I have only this key
to a small room.