Hotel Babel

Checking in to Hotel Babel
Bellhop Jesus, take my baggage
Up to penthouse number nine
And show me where I need to sign

Climbing Jacob’s Ladder slowly
Passing prophet portraits peering
Back at me, but they can’t see
Into these lifeless eyes of mine

Tip the Savior with my soul
And open up to isolation
The curtains drawn, I don’t belong
Ring up a bottle of salvation

To drown my lack of satisfaction
To validate my mourning dove
Perched upon the cold stone of
My wayward spirit’s windowsill

Below, the streets of broken dreams
Carved out like cut glass shards of anguish
Misery in shades obscene
Misguided vines that guard the exits

Duvets are wooly sheets of lamb
To blanket the mistakes I’ve made
Fall face first into Mary’s pillows
Then fall away from everything

Eternal dawn, she wraps around me
Her warm, inviting smile affirms
I’ve made love to a vested virgin
Anointed in the bed we’ve made

She says she has a mikvah dip
Appointment made for noon today
At the hotel salon aptly named
“Bathsheba’s Health and Wellness Spa”

And so I dress and head for breakfast
The dining room is scarcely filled
Chef Moses says the menu’s “plagued”
While Doorman Samson adjusts his toupée

Cut through the kitchen backdoor alley
Where John awaits on the fire escape
Says he knows a “little dive”
That serves the best communion ‘round

The city smells of kerosene
The Lake of Fire’s distinctive sea breeze
I know this place, I know it well
The hell townsfolk call Beggarsville

Streets confettied with love letters shorn into shreds
Nephews abused by long-suffering aunts
And sewer rats

Infested with larva of soul-eating moths
Humanitarians who have finished last
And the past

Ragged stares from dreamers who honestly cared
Once upon long ago
Before failure was known

The sting of sulfur blinds our eyes
We duck inside a crumbling building
Among the skid row bars and brothels
A hole called Café Rock of Ages

The owner’s name is Abraham
A boy named Isaac tends the bar
The wine tastes like the spit of swill
John says it’s here we’ll get our fill

We take our seats against the wall
The paper peeling worn and torn
Above our heads the clock unwound
A drunk named Judas buys a round

He pays with thirty silver coins
A seldom u-ndertaking for a
Man who toils a potter’s field
He hangs his hat and pours his meal

We order tempest tossed in loss
The cupboards bare – we eat the world
Piano Man Paul starts to play
The atmosphere begins to sway

We melt beneath the floorboards
Bidding fond adieu to all our woes
Promenade in fairground joy
In total bliss and happiness

Airing our feelings, grasping for reasoning
What is the meaning?
Am I only dreaming?

Chanting incantations, a lecherous celebration
Cursing segregation
Defeating subjugation

Bells are ringing, angels singing
Patrons smiling
Some are crying

Accept this pleasant, earnest present
Away with fists that don’t belong
Honest trust, how glorious!
The ivory keys tap freedom’s song

Farewell despair without a care
Far from the streets of sweeping sorrow
No room for shame, our lives in vain
A touch of grace, God, here I go

John says the anthem comes alive
In each gleam of a newborn’s eyes
And with Paul’s impassioned, vocal strains
Our broken dreams are euthanized

The soothing sound of freedom’s song
How I love it o’er and o’er
The cresting pulse of freedom’s song
Makes me wish for nothing more

But jubilation never stays
A pimp called Lot struts through the door
Presents his daughters, boasts they’ll fill
Any lust in Beggarsville

We thus retreat the downward spiral
Reminded life’s a mystery
The rich man mired in foolishness
The wise man sunk in poverty

So what entails a man to stay?
To forge a life in Beggarsville?
To take his bleak, vexatious veil
And shroud the light of his potential?

We head on back to Hotel Babel
Criss-cross the streets of broken dreams
Past shops called Enoch’s Bank and Trust
And Taxes Done by Zacchaeus

A star shines bright to guide us home
Quick stop downtown at Casino Levi
Lose gold and frankincense and myrrh
To three wise guys doing Magi tricks

The dust of dusk begins to descend
So majestic, such finesse
To cover every implication
With the prowess of indulgence

John says he’s had a revelation
Says we should pop down to the station
Hop a steel-wheeled riding rail
And take that scenic, westbound trail

He’s got an eye on setting suns
Wants to have a little fun
Wants to flee this sordid game
And taste the chaste of summer rain

Calls upon his guardian angel
A cherub-faced boy now appears
Presents himself as simply Michael
Who draws his sword when trouble nears

And so we journey through the city
When out of nowhere comes a mob
John asks them what they want from us
“Barabbas!” (i.e. none of your business)

They lunge, but Michael doles the lash
So swift he strikes with split precision
The mob disperses in a hurry
The details – still a little blurry

But John’s been wounded and it’s bad
We need to get him help and fast
Michael says that Doctor Luke
Can fix him good as new again

For Pete’s sake then, put down the sword
And help me get John on this board
We’ll carry him to Luke’s E.R.
And hope it doesn’t leave a scar

Rush through the doors where scores and scores
Await afflicted with disease
Leprosy, possession, those seen clinging to a crutch
All in need of a healing touch

Curse the sound of freedom’s song!
Oh woeful words that maim, not heal!
Newborn dance fawn prancing ground
Means nothing to me anymore

We should have stayed at Hotel Babel
Then John would not be in this state
And Mary, oh my undercover lover
How she’d placate my intentions to escape

Doc Luke attempts a risky operation
Never done before nor will again
But in the end it’s either this or lose our friend
And me and Mike can’t let that happen

So begins the Lazarus Procedure
Ever-eager Mike begins to pray
Says it helps to keep the pain at bay
But I don’t see it quite that way

Luke thrusts the spear into John’s side
The blood spews forth in flashflood waves
Nurse Ruth attempts to stitch a fissure wide
The Balm of Gilead is then applied

John’s last words urge us all to keep believing
Rolls back his eyes then wades across the sea
Eternity? Could be. But me? I highly doubt it
The scrub tech, Thomas, heartily agrees

So I set off once again for Hotel Babel
Funny how things seem to end that way
You search for faith only to find
The abscess of a sacrilegious mind.