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Unnamed hotel

by Susan Lee 13 days ago in surreal poetry

The desolate winter

Unnamed hotel
Image of snow-ridden trees

11 W. 26th St.

There was a shooting in this area not too far from here -

the Chicago Tribune reported yesterday that 5 people had died.

Sitting on the king-sized bed -

(hell, I could be anywhere - at a hotel in Paris, London, NYC, Seoul, Tokyo) -

surrounded by my objects that stare intently, imploringly, accusingly at me,

I am caught in this thick, fluctuating, nebulous state of the unknown --

the uncertainty of what tomorrow holds, a fucking question mark--

It envelops me like the amniotic fluids of my mother's womb

tightly and with an unknown force

each contraction pushing me out into the world

yet I, scared shitless,

as I kick and fight, the unborn babe in the uterus.

Come on, Susan, get it together

Come on, Susan, what are your plans for tomorrow?

Come on, Susan, where will you be?

I don't know

I don't know

Je ne sais pas, I reply wearily to myself

I am a thick bean-sized bubble, floating around

from one wand to another

waiting for the one that will keep me moored


surreal poetry
Susan Lee
Susan Lee
Read next: Poem: New Life
Susan Lee

I graduated from Stanford University in 2002 with a BA in International Relations and a minor in Psychology and have a Masters in International Affairs from Georgetown University.

See all posts by Susan Lee