THREE POEMS by HARRISON CASSWELL
64-Room Hotel
Room 64 costs three-million dollars per night. Room 63 has a golden toilet. Room 62 has a golden everything. Room 61 plays host to extravagant parties. Room 60 hosts orgies, the contents of which are too disturbing to put on paper. Room 59 is always empty, reserved for the king of Sweden. Room 58 houses the king of Sweden’s mistress. Room 57 hosts her girlfriend. Room 56 has marble floors. Room 55 has a mirror above the bed. Room 54 has no bed. Room 53 has large windows on three of its walls. Room 52 has its windows boarded up. Room 51 never had any. Room 50 has traces of cocaine on almost every surface. Room 49 is covered in ecstasy. Room 48 is where the Kingpin lives. Room 47 is where they count the money. Room 46 houses his first wife and kids. Room 45 houses his second wife and her shih tzu. Room 44 houses his other two girlfriends. Room 43's occupants once made a noise complaint and nobody has seen them since. Room 42 is covered in plastic sheets and stains. Room 41 is just covered in stains. Rooms 40-30 house the cleaning staff, though most of them daren’t venture above room 40. Room 29 is where the hotel manager keeps his dogs. Room 28 is where he lives. Room 27 has been abandoned and locked since 2007. So have Rooms 26 and 25. The Conservative Party run their campaigns from Room 24. Room 23 used to be the Labour HQ until it was flooded. Room 22 is where the famous Russian ballet dancer, Emil Chekov lived after he escaped the regime. Room 21 is rented exclusively to Playboy bunnies. Room 20 houses the three most dangerous criminals in the United States of America. Room 19 is painted black, with a red lightbulb screwed into the ceiling. Room 18’s residents have complained of hearing deep gargling noises and the stench of rotting flesh. Room 17 is empty. Room 16 has been occupied by Paris Hilton since her sweet 16th birthday party. Room 15 has no toilet. Room 14 has three. Room 13 has no furniture at all. Room 12 is where Bill Gates invented the iPod. Room 11 is where Steve Jobs sat with a cup to the wall. Room 10 doesn't exist. Room 9 existed once, but doesn’t anymore. Room 8 only exists if you believe in it. Room 7 exists only for the punishment and torture of child-abusers. Room 6 is where the judge, jury and executioner live. Room 5 is falling apart. Room 4 fell apart years ago. Room 3 belongs to the British Embassy. Room 2 is where the proprietor of this establishment lives. Room 1 is a trap.
a poem from the POV of my dad
Black, thick, and soft
proud of my locks.
A plethora of styles – all to be envied:
Pony-tail, curtains, mullet.
Hair so great and cool and full it…
was too good to last.
A scalp remains in its place,
abandoned follicles
a crown above my face.
Now two young sons run around,
a painful reminder of a life once lived.
Two beautiful heads of hair
zoom around the room
unaware
not knowing that they’re
doomed.
this gigs not for me
I hate academia
it's impersonal and cold
but I don’t wanna be grafting
when I'm tired and old
I want a good job
That pays lots of money
But I detest the journey
isn't it funny?
I don't wanna be here
This gigs not for me
I'm selling my sanity
For a second class degree
Harrison Casswell is a writer from Doncaster. His work often deals with themes of family and the working classes. He works as a Duty Manager in the local theatre and also as resident writer for Write Yorkshire [@WriteYorkshire].