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ROBERT LIEBLEIN

Multimedia Artist

ars longa,vita brevis

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idea words:

imagery

simile

metaphor

personification

anthropomorphism

metonymy

synecdoche

pun

parody

hyperbole

litotes

antithesis

irony

allegory

The Last Hotel Room In Paris

 

It’s that feeling of contempt again.

Two sets of eyes searching one another

In Silence

 

It’s the monogram,

It’s the credentials,

It’s the epitaph.

 

It’s just another airport.

Remotely active in the middle of the night

In the middle of the world

In the middle of a world of sleeping savages.

 

It’s the ghost caress

And the high heeled figure

Fading out

Over a loud speaker.

 

It’s fervor

And fever

And fractal allocations

With baggage.

 

And of course,

It’s a clock in the corner that will never stop choking your day.

 

It’s the longing that carves out the distance

And the insolvent series of letters,

And words,

And statements.

 

It’s the anxious tiredness

That feeds a tomorrow

Though it’s here with the past

With a grip on your finger

And a serious laugh.

 

It’s the end of the song.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris

Where your head lies on a pillow.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris

Where your body rests on a bed.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris

Where your eye cries out a sullen tear to be sent.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris

Where you wake up and it’s all over.

No more sobbing lament.

 

It’s the last hotel room in Paris

Where she has grown terrors which now slowly resent.

 

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