I arrived by invite,
Alone.
The dining room empty,
Tables laid
Wine glasses full,
Skeletal waiters hovered,
Lies in their eyes.
The maître d
Approached,
Pointed me to a table
Without chairs
And gestured for me to sit.
I stared at portraits
On empty walls
To the tune of footsteps
In empty halls.
The menu was varied,
With fricasseed sins,
A wide range of corpses,
Fresh in their skins.
The wine was all red
With a stench for bouquet,
It was free on the menu
But just for today.
I ordered quite freely,
I ate not a thing,
My appetite faltered
As demons did sing.
I asked for my room key
The maître d grinned,
"We only have space, sir"
"For those who have sinned"
"Here's the key to the penthouse"
"It's what you deserve"
"We knew you would come"
"It was kept in reserve."
ENJOY YOUR STAY.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn
