Millions were dead; everybody was innocent. <br />I stayed in my room. The President <br />Spoke of war as of a magic love potion. <br />My eyes were opened in astonishment. <br />In a mirror my face appeared to me <br />Like a twice-canceled postage stamp. <br /> <br />I lived well, but life was awful. <br />there were so many soldiers that day, <br />So many refugees crowding the roads. <br />Naturally, they all vanished <br />With a touch of the hand. <br />History licked the corners of its bloody mouth. <br /> <br />On the pay channel, a man and a woman <br />Were trading hungry kisses and tearing off <br />Each other's clothes while I looked on <br />With the sound off and the room dark <br />Except for the screen where the color <br />Had too much red in it, too much pink.<br /><br />Charles Simic<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paradise-motel/
