In Room 512 at St. Mary's.
you can't solve a flash flood
Here is a scene for you. The nurses look on,
efficiently, out across
a wretched patienthood
the patience of the poor and put-upon
they put me on hold
hold on to the moments spent!
I had this vague memory.
the rustle of sheets
folded
I've never been myself
I entered the room,
to the tune of women’s lamentations,
shriller than before.
Looking out the window, I said not a word, That
was one of the new Somethings -–
the Fear, binding me as with iron.
the lookers-on, hovering, gawking,
but hesitating to touch each other
where it counts
the machines worked thack thack thack thack
slowly stroking
hammers pounding in nails
news was slow in coming
the bed an open wound
torn rent
bleeding emptiness
a silent flood
inside a room that belongs to you
no more