free wi-fi

the clerk,

dog eyed and weary

in his

short sleeved white

shirt

gone grey,

has seen everything,

come through

the doors

of his roadside motel.

every form

of life

has needed a room

at some point,

for an hour or two

or one

night.

it's far enough away

from

probing eyes,

far enough away from

husbands

and wives.

he's past judgement

at this stage of the game.

he hands

over the keys,

and tells them

there's free wi-fi.