- Keith Banner
Hotel Eden
a whitewashed world
underneath the whitewash
nothing spectacular, not even
interesting, but
still everything painted over, re-
splendent for what it is, an afternoon
takeover, a nap
wherein birds and pills accompany
you
escort you maybe
toward this hotel you've always looked forward to
this box of memories doesn't actually
open because it's always open
but it does take shape
it does let you know there are rooms where
you can leave the world
empty yourself out
white enamel paint, white enamel sky
a medicine cabinet substituted for a brain
a brain fluctuating between
niceties and blankness: the world
is very tiny
once you leave it
then suddenly
a bellhop appears
mouthless, courteous,
a shadow vibrating against
a white-painted brick wall
no,
no luggage
just this
("Untitled (Hotel Eden)," Joseph Cornell, shadowbox, 1945)
