Insomnia Rx
From this hospital window
I can see
the mottled reflection
of black leaves trembling
in night breezes.
Keeper of the watch
ever calm, ever bright
brings stark illumination
of the glass paned
still life.
The other watchman
black and bewigged
carelessly munching
stolen potato chips
presents lesser
challenge.
And, in a haze my bare feet
make rustled crossing
to the third stall from the left
for the second time
in an hour and a half.
Clinic
Porcelain fleur-de-lys
Blemish
Blue splash archway
Of routinized indignity.
Quaking
In
The
Wraith.
Plastic paneled
Calcified,
Barnacled
Inertia
Mocks the scribbled
Pathos of my pain-soaked
Particulars
As
Drops of spit foam
Fleck the shoreline
Of cheap orange lips
With every quavered
Signature
On ream upon ream
Of aborted humanity.
"He will see you now."
White walls, white floors
Dilate
Paper coated nudities
Billowing
In gunmetal gusts
Of neglect.
Each script, a phial
Of portioned potent
Suppliant
Insignificance
Yet to come.
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