Tuesday, June 3rd, 2008
don winter | the hamtramck hotel
The Hamtramck Hotel
shrinks in a desert of parking meters.
And WE NEVER CLOSE pops and blinks like a wounded eye.
And the buckled sidewalk a blood and beer stained belt
of accordion keys. And the prostitutes whistle their one note,
lips thick donuts strawberry glazed.
And the cars lay for years like stunned animals.
And the manager’s voice tumbles like [...]
