Hotel California's Forecast.

the wind's so hard
it's like it has a message.

i prefer cliff-notes,
& abbreviations.

but this was something
hard to miss,

clearly no deviations.


i'm a mess.

i'm a monster,
guised as a goddess.

i can make a man bend at the knee,
& the biggest liar honest.


but whether or not
i'm merry or
in the key of C minor,

the Hotel California
could never be finer-


could never be better
even if at my worst,

or better yet,
actually getting rest,


but nonetheless
still remaining cursed.


so i stay & i write
stagnant in a black and blue town,

surrounded by white
wearing half a frown.

no, i'm not down,
i just mean to say...

it's better you cause the bruise,

call truce--



& leave it at bay.