1
Born in the belly of the Belmont Hotel
Near the end of the war. At the Belden-Stratford,
I received my education. The Park Lane?
Hours there in the coffee shop. The Webster
Is where I will die, unless at the Rienzi Hotel.
For many years I lived at the Diversey Arms.
2
Frolicsome, young-lamb-like, the Diversey Arms
Scorned that orthopedic grandma, the Belmont Hotel,
While the temperate latitude of the Rienzi Hotel
Was my standby, as too was the Belden-Stratford,
Where Al Farber's Steak Room was, or the Webster
Which had no barbershop -- and the Park Lane . . .
3
Let me tell you something about the Park Lane:
There were holographic ghost girls. The Diversey Arms
Claimed Elmer Horwich but he died at the Webster;
Elmer wolfed down chopped liver at the Belmont Hotel.
He should have gone to Farber's at the Belden-Stratford,
Or stayed sequestered, ensconced, at the Rienzi Hotel.
4
For a time Charlie Livingston lived at the Rienzi Hotel
Until, after Elmer Horwich died, he left the Park Lane
For Elmer's old Rienzi room, and at the Belden-Stratford
Looked down his nose at the puerile Diversey Arms.
His bed was at the Belden-Stratford and at the Belmont Hotel.
He flossed his teeth, struggling not to end up at the Webster.
5
Oh Christ, I am so royally fucked at the Webster
And I am completely fucked at the Rienzi Hotel.
What did I think would happen at the Belmont Hotel,
Where I am also fucked, or at the Park Lane
Where I am fucked. At the Diversey Arms
I am fucked. I am fucked at the Belden-Stratford.
6
Whew. Just whew. I feel better at the Belden-Stratford.
I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling at the Webster.
I watch puppy videos, kitten videos at the Rienzi Hotel.
One morning, or one evening, I’ll die at the Diversey Arms,
Or some blazing afternoon at the Park Lane
But I was born in the belly of the Belmont Hotel!
Must I remember the Belmont Hotel? Will the Belden-Stratford,
The Park Lane, the Rienzi Hotel forever haunt my thoughts?
Or the Webster, faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne? The Diversey Arms?