Angela Readman’s ‘Postcard from Hotel California’

Postcard from Hotel California
Angela Readman
 
A picture of a greyhound on the side of a bus
I imagine will always make me smile.
The old man smells of pomade,
the daisies in his hand are lightning rod straight.
A woman leaves her good lips on an egg sandwich
and my sister hurls into a Playboy
someone tucked into the seat.
  
My head is full of Hotel California.
I picture myself with Malibu skin at a dresser,
combing my hair with fingers of sun.
My life will be palm trees,
a crowd scene on a beach. Somewhere
on the postcard is a pinpoint of colour,
you can’t quite make out: she is me.
   

from Strip (Salt, 2007)
  
Strip is now available in softcover here.

4 thoughts on “Angela Readman’s ‘Postcard from Hotel California’

  1. Michelle Post author

    Hi Zoe, I really like the ending:

    ” … Somewhere
    on the postcard is a pinpoint of colour,
    you can’t quite make out: she is me.”

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