Dormancy

"DORMANCY"

A proper welcoming well in order,
a man named harold is welcomed by the doorman,
enters a hotel called "strange additions"
what sort of title could that be?

The doorman's interlocutory
is short and significant,
to the man's estrangement of "strange additions"
his voice is that of a dove and a demon
stuffed in a aerosol can screwed tight,
like a lotus-eater in a lamp,
a webbing spider above in the corner, threading its nets,
and here he comes across the main lobby,
eyes apon the chandeliar and the hot dane
her name is priscilla, she murmurs on the telephone,
a clamor and utters, whispers
sulking, strange how she mutters,
visualizes a banquet of morons,
all at her disposal, shes keen to keep them at her feet,
rendering all who oppose her into a cat meal's treat,
this is the delicacy the woman has created,
the woman from denmark, the woman dressed in furs,
she eyes the man harold,
in a moment of awareness,
then quickly looks away, the moment is over,

Harold takes comfort to a varnished painting,
forgetting the pretty lady, on the telephone in muttering,
and now he sees it: the doorman's dormancy is evident,

What a terrible welcomer, his voice so quietude,
or was that imaginary?
was it the true wicked fact that its the woman in red?
could it be the falsification that lures him dead,
the party-goers who pass harold are loud and in laughter,
but in his mind, they are silent bugs of deceit,
he cannot hear them, he is in a state of dormancy,
arrise for it is time, to enter the boat on the lake of gloomy,
rushing out of the hotel, rushing to a bicycle
cycling, cycling, forgetful forgetful,
now i am prone to this merriment.
it lurks in the borders of the lake and the gloss
in the woman's face filled with lights,
mechanical, beautiful,
these things race through his mind,
and the end is nie, here is a pond, it will have to do,
such fervent approach,
here i am safe, in my dormancy i remain.