Nobody's Playing Piano Tonight

Nobody’s playing piano

In the lobby

Tonight

The elevator’s empty

The stairs
The lost and found
The concierge desk

Two rooms smell like kerosene

Two others let the wind come in
That's the way
That's the wiggle

Windows

Doors

They’re luxuries

Carpets ripped up

Covers pulled off

A chocolate candy

Stuck to the floor

I’m waiting here for you, my dear

I’m waiting with my suitcase packed

I’m waiting with my violin

I’m waiting

I’m waiting

I’m waiting

Which room?
What time?

Did I get the directions right?

She kept you from me

But she can’t anymore

I’m here to celebrate

Two rooms please

One for us

And one for the party

I don’t need a ring

Like the one you bought her

Let her keep her married name

I’ll just have you

And your sensitive demeanor

Your simple way

Of carrying luggage

And bandaging wounds

And tripping

While you dance

She talks like a snake charmer

But I don’t talk at all

I let you do the talking

And I go where I’m told

And the hotel sits empty

The beds unmade

The paint chips

The salad bar rots
The windows fog up
Before they break

It’s pretty

If you like dying things

And it’s scary

If you scare easy

Today they asked me

How long I’d be here

And I said I didn’t know

Because I’ve already been waiting

All this time

But my suitcase won’t open
And my eyes won’t close

And I can’t sleep anymore

Because there aren’t any pillows
Or beds
Or dreams to dream
Or nightmares left to have

The televisions play

The radios whistle

The floorboards give up

And the ceiling fans whip themselves

Into a frenzy

All at the suggestion
That someone else

Might be coming here

Tonight

But the music—?

There is no music

Just ladies crying

In far away bathrooms

And dapper gentlemen
Lighting cigars

Dogs barking

In dark neighborhoods

Where the streetlights

Were torn down

In favor of

Towers

Where men could sit

And wait for someone

To walk past them

Without permission

I wonder if that’s what happened to him

I wonder if he walked past

Without the proper permits

And—

A cricket

A rat

A bird flies

The ladies cry

What’s this?

What’s that?

It’s not a bell

We don’t have bells

We only have

Things
Falling down

Somebody could do this
And somebody could manage that

But nobody can do everything

And it’s only nobody here

Nobody comes

Nobody goes

Nobody has anything

To say

And nobody’s playing piano

Because nobody knows how to play