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Architectural Mutations in the American Trajectory

the long house was transplanted from the Iroquois territory in the eastern
woodlands to the plains   and became a motel 

seen from another planet, it was a sub-microscopic particle between two
small dots on a map

a place to spend the night

it’s community spirit was sucked out like marrow
there would be no common room 
rooms were joined by hairline cracks and crude peepholes

it was a compartmentalized place for a quick rendezvous and  enforced
solitude 
a hot shower
some shuteye

a place somewhere between uncertainty and despair

faded pink, yellow and turquoise doors could be opened outward
to a vast expanse of flatlands and open sky
but remained shut
inside, perversions uncoiled themselves 
became  slack or were sharpened

a place of utmost liberty and  complete aloneness 


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