Wi-Fi Is Free

If You Can Afford It             

by Sarah Henry

                                                                                                                                   

Welcome

to the resting place

of suicides who

have crawled

across Route 30.

During my two-day

employment,

I’m afraid of finding

a body in a shower.

The owner is never

on the premises.

He hides away

on purpose.

His cheap portrait

hangs in the lobby.

We maids don’t

know each others’

real names.

The name stitched

in red on my black

uniform is Janet.

I plow through

the trashy rooms

with a heavy hand

on the Orrick vacuum.

Without a paper trail---

no punch, unlikely pay.

White grains stretch

along the baseboards.

So this is what

is meant by

“a seedy abode.”

At Disney World,

employees take pride

in their product.

They rush

to pick up litter

in the wholesome                                                                                  

surroundings.                                                                                                                                              

Meanwhile, I sweep

the disconsolate

parking lot of

the Welcome Rest.                                                                  

My broom pushes

the dirt around,

like a wet mop                                                       

anointing

the bathroom floors.

* * * * *

Sarah Henry poems recently appeared in Defenestration, Turtle Island Quarterly and Leaves of Ink. She lives and writes in a small Pennsylvania town with no distractions.