Loneliness in a Hilton Hotel
Published in
Mar 16
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Layover summer poem — too hot for anything except writing this.
HILTON HOTEL
Madrid Hilton at 40C feels like hell,
A dry emptiness in a hot new hotel,
Inside is black and white and bare,
Greene and style meet in the atrium,
Tonight it’s “The power and the Glory”,
Next table girl “Blackberries” everyone,
The loneliness of travelling alone,
The reason for a mobile phone.
