Sometimes I wonder
while lying flat on my back in a motel room
if the lonely man in the room next door
wonders how long he has to live
Unfamiliar places seem to bring up questions
that no one will answer
My bare feet beat a rhythm
into the dingy carpet
as I run down the hallway with artificial light
past the room numbers
past the woman crying by the washing machines
I wonder if I can answer that man’s question
which seems to have become my own
and I can’t find the door
that would lead me out forever
When all of a sudden I realize
I never left the bed to begin with