Prose Poem: Julia Carpenter checks in.

 

 The finest hotel in the city

is the Grand Bonanza Inn.

Room service is never ending.

The desk bell is huge. Made

of silver. It reverberates for 

hours after it is tapped.

The lobby has a fountain

where butterflies gather.

And the bell boys hand out

free Pez dispensers at 

all hours.

When Julia Carpenter checks in

for a weekend of work on her

book

the desk clerk does cartwheels.

Ms. Carpenter is given so many

thick and fluffy white towels

that it takes a gurney to wheel

them all up to her room.

Because the Grand Bonanza Inn

honors and respects journalists.

No matter what newspaper

they work for.

Even if it's the local

Nickel Shopper. 

 

This particular weekend

Ms. Carpenter tells the fawning

desk clerk: "I've had an epiphany

with my book."

The clerk chuckles richly and 

deeply (for he is very obese

and sings bass in the Sangerbund.)

"That's wonderful!" he exclaims.

The desk clerk gathers all the 

hotel staff to hear Ms. Carpenter's

epiphany.

They perch on the thickly padded

leather lobby chairs, all agog.

"I'm writing it in Sanskrit!" 

she announces triumphantly.

Several chambermaids faint

during the ensuing uproar. 

And a man who looks like

Fritz Feld turns to the camera

to say "That's all folks!"