COMPLEX INTERESTS

i’m an island of complexity,
said the least interesting person in the hotel lobby
trying to get the bellboys attention,
though it wasn’t that sort of hotel,
but rather more of a ratty motel on the side of the highway
that mostly caters to truckers needing a quick
snooze before heading off once again 
on the asphalt arteries, drifting,
and the most least interesting person mistakenly thought their needs
deserved attending to,
but the hotel staff and patrons forgot about them entirely