FLESH YIELDS TO POSH

The Lincoln Plaza Hotel in Park Slope
In the days of its full flower
Had twenty-six small rooms it rented
For fifteen dollars–an hour.

No reservations or luggage required
In this now-pricey canyon,
Though management resolutely insisted
Each guest bring a companion.

The couples in the Queen Anne manse
Enjoyed a soundtrack of glory
That emanated from next door’s
Music Conservatory

Until five doleful years ago
When the chandeliers went dark,
And well-worn hotsheets were withdrawn
From this amusement lark.

Today, five million dollars on,
The hotel’s end has come,
As it fatefully morphs into–what else?–
A condominium.