Let's Close the Hotel

I was scooping ice cubes
and heard this businessman complain about getting Carlsberg
in a Fosters glass
and that no-one had offered to help him
carry his suitcase to his room.

The coach party queued at reception
demanding to know why there had been no vegetarian sausages
at breakfast that morning
and why they did not have any biscuits in their room.
"We should close the hotel." you said to me, smiling
while serving an old lady cafe latte.

On the stairs I passed the duty manager
carrying a tray of room service.
"We should close the hotel." I said.
"We should empty the restaurant
unplug the phones
clear the bar
and knock on the door of every room and say

'You have to leave now.'
We'll say it's because of terrorism
we'll say it's a plague of locusts
we'll say 'You all just need to learn a lesson.'

We can open the safe and let people help themselves
to refunds.
Let's empty the fridge of gateaux
and strawberries
and all of the food that's been cooked

we can eat ourselves.
In the morning the manager will find
the early morning cleaners
loitering in the car park with Leisure staff and Amanda

from Accounts.
They will run up to his car and follow him
and his spare key
into the hotel to find all of my friends
playing poker in the suite
and me and you giggling in the jacuzzi.