Column 15

This playful, sensual poem by Rebecca Bird takes us to places that only poetry really can. It’s from her pamphlet Shrinking Ultraviolet by Eyewear Publishing

Breakfast at the Infinity Hotel

Ask me: what would happen
if there were infinity more hotel rooms

and inside them, infinity more versions
of us? Would each couple still drift

between the sheets like passing taxis
ordering room service under the pseudonym

we’re so bad? Yes it’s great to be dripping
midnight oil around your navel

but there are other uses for it. It descales
the eyes like a dream. Last night, slammed

shut as a clamshell, you nuzzled my tattoo
of a fishbowl – why isn’t there a fish?

you asked as I let you drink its water
the water that sustains the rooms above us

millions of you
sagging in the gutter
——of millions more of me.

 

Used with kind permission of Rebecca Bird and Eyewear Publishing.