The Ballad of the Tangerine Hotel

The chandelier shines tonight like a clit ring under moon. The pool is shaped like a broken heart. The maids are dressed in tuxedos. The concierge of the delicately obscene requests you join us after dinner. Enjoy a complimentary shotgun. The bellhop tells us time was invented to break your heart and despite everything there will be room service in heaven. 



Downtown is full refugees from the war on suffering. These days we sleep in the park between the kindergarten and ER. Last night Spider killed Butterfly. The purist ones can pause your heart. Beepers chirp through the neon night. Good girls try Russian cigars. Buster Keaton drinks Arnold Palmers in heaven, I say to the caller. Robin kisses Batman in the rain. 


More Autobahns

We should build more autobahns to replenish the old ones. I want to die out there in that speeding future, forever. Our old highways are made of bad light and AM radios. But with fine fast traffic our little town will come to life again. Santa will skydive onto a football field of four leaf clovers on Christmas Eve. Hawaii Bob will tell his girlfriend about Nirvana but she cannot love him anymore, forever.


Michael Bible is originally from North Carolina. His work has appeared in Oxford American, The Paris Review Daily, Al Jazeera America, ESPN: The Magazine and New York Tyrant.

Illustration by Guy Field