The White Hotel Read Free Page A

such room,
set up a crosswise flutter, in the gloom
bodies were being brought to shore, we heard
a sound of weeping, his finger hurt
me jammed right up my arsehole my nail began
caressing where his prick so fat it didn’t
belong to him any more was hidden
away in my cunt, came a lightning flash
a white zig-zag that went so fast
it was gone before the thunder cracked
over the hotel, then it was black
again with just a few lights on the lake,
I think the billiard room was flooded, we ached
he couldn’t bring himself to let it gush
it was so beautiful, it makes me blush
now to be telling you, Professor, I
wasn’t ashamed then, although I cried,
after about an hour he came inside,
we heard doors banging they were bringing in
the bodies from the lake, the wind
was very high still, we kept
our hands still on each other as we slept.

One evening they rescued a cat, its black fur
had been almost lost against the dark-green fir,
we stood naked by the window as a hand
searched among the foliage, it scratched,
it had been up there two days since the flood,
that was the night I felt a trickle of blood,
he was showing me some photographs, I said
Do you mind if the trees are turning red?
I don’t mean that we literally never left
the bed, after the cat was taken down, we dressed
and went downstairs to eat, between the tables
there was a space to dance, I was unstable,
I had the dress I stood up in, no more,
I felt air on my flesh, the dress was short,
weakly I tried to push away his hand,
he said, I can’t stop touching you, I can’t,
please, you must let me, please,
couples were smiling at us indulgently,
he licked his glistening fingers as we sat,
I watched his red hand cut away the fat,
we ran down to the larches, I felt a cool
breeze blow on my skin and it was beautiful,
we couldn’t hear the band in the hotel
though now and then some gypsy music swelled,
that night he almost burst my cunt apart
being tighter from my flow of blood, the stars
were huge over the lake, there was no room
for a moon, but the stars fell in our room,
and lit up the summer-house’s fallen roof
pagoda-like, and sometimes the white cap
of the mountain was lit by a lightning flash.
    2
One whole day, the servants made our bed.
Rising at dawn, we left the white hotel
to set sail in a yacht on the wide lake.
From dawn until the day began to fade
we sailed in our three-masted white-sailed craft.
Beneath our rug your son’s right hand was jammed
up to the wrist inside me, laced in skin.
The sky was blue without a cloudy hint.
The white hotel merged into trees. The trees
merged into the horizon of green sea.
I said, Please fuck me, please. Am I too blunt?
I’m not ashamed. It was the murderous sun.
But there was nowhere in the ship to lie,
for everywhere there were people drinking wine
and gnawing chicken breasts. They gazed at us
two invalids who never left our rug.
I went into a kind of fever, so
besotted by your son’s unresting stroke,
Professor, driving like a piston in
and out, hour after hour. It wasn’t till
the sun drew in, that their gaze turned away,
not to the crimson sunset but the blaze
coming from our hotel, again in sight
between the tall pines. It outblazed the sky
—one wing was burning, and the people rushed
to the ship’s prow to stare at it in horror.
So, pulling me upon him without warning,
your son impaled me, it was so sweet I screamed
but no one heard me for the other screams
as body after body fell or leapt
from upper storeys of the white hotel.
I jerked and jerked until his prick released
its cool soft flood. Charred bodies hung from trees,
he grew erect again, again I lunged,
oh I can’t tell you how our rapture gushed,
the wing was gutted, you could see the beds,
we don’t know how it started, someone said
it might have been the unaccustomed sun
driving through our opened curtains, kindling
our still-warm sheets, or (smoking was