The Hostel Pt 1 Poem by Jude Uchella

Slowly, I walked through
the dark passage,
with eyes strained to follow
the path.
my nostrils agitated at the
insurgence of putrid smell,
more dangerous a weapon
than fart.
I was shocked when I saw
smiles of elated faces,
dancing to the lyrics of
smelling faeces.
I saw them bask in the
bosom of untidiness,
with an obvious touch of
ruggedness.
'Come back here, ' I heard
a matured voice,
'don't you have anything
for the boys?
I looked, puzzled at the old
figure,
whose breath emanated the
smell of strong liquor.
I knew he was a security
officer,
not a bribery minister.
so, I turned, neglecting his
demand,
amidst his threats of
reprimand.
I kept on treading and
treading,
fast-paced, like an escapee
convicted of treason.
I traversed the entire
building,
which I thought was
magically rotating.
Finally, I met the room-
with a fragile door,
when it opened I was
appalled at what I saw.
It looked more like an
abandoned place,
or perhaps where a pig
stays.
As I stepped in, I
perceived a different
odour,
quickly held my nose, I
wanted no more.
The fan had lost its place in
the room,
and the agents of heat
prophesied doom.
The beds were so lean-
they looked starved,
perhaps room service was
mean; i laughed.
suddenly, I heard a
strange voice,
just then, I noticed the
staring boys.
One, two, three....I counted
eight,
in a room designed for four
room mates.
with a stuttering voice I
said 'hello'
and shut the door to
embrace hell oooo!