Foxholes — Nooses

There was no accident to the amount of whoredom
she could afford to try at night in the morning or
afternoon say in front of a tv screen probably or laptop.

*

The Logic never stacked up &
outside the Hotel was the usual pandemonium
of traffic & a picking wind going on & the crush of the day.

*

It is Red & with pleasure how many places
the legs can bend & together
So she took it plumbed from every right angle
in honey & fractured harmony.

*

until she got bored.

*

Through the heat of the days
who blended into weeks or however long
things are she’d wait to rope them in.

*

Each morning to her door The Tribune
Or Daily or Herald would arrive in its
black & white captions & coloured shots
of marine hellfire.

*

over the euphrates smoke rose —
& people were being driven from their
homes & minds. A Cobra Chopper
up & fell. The day was an accident.

*

By night she noticed each Hotel Suite
looked more like a Foyer than before
& all the marbly tiles were mirrors
reflecting the slip & tick of her steps.

*

where nouns would shloop into view —
a Lone Corporate Cab or Executive Taxi
& Dim Lobbies with their sunk couches &
Vermouth — where she might venture.

*

& lightly she would address each Receptionist
or Cleaner with patience & the fluid trick of linguistics.
to wait for a key a room a number & a swipe
card for the power.

*

Lo & tall — she’d enter to a fridge with its mixes
a bed in King cupboards drawers nuts & small
bars of mint & baby champagne.

*

Where she’d log onto Embeds
whose risks were photos & handfuls
of words & insurgents or injuries.
Foxholes & Nooses.

*

Who she’d call up or dial
through the stars through
the satellite dishes right through the stratosphere to there —
the middle sandy east nestled into the marines’ necks —
in squadrons & battalions & Lexus Tanks

*

Time is a cheap Dove.
& this room has matching bathrobes on hooks or knobs
in white in pairs in dual velour.

*

& when she slept it was near the middle of the bed
in ravish sheets of JetStream shades –
the room was hot with its whirring screens
some guardian inches of robert fisk &
her nakedness.

*

at 23.41 she flicked into Dreams.