Hospital Antics

Friendly faces are no help, but numbness is the kiss of the angels.

Drift a lifelong naked mind-maze,

Ride a capsized infection

Data undertow with teeth beneath the tide.

Frigid blue injections

In the radical-soaked vein.

Red-circle me and call me a mistake.

 

Check my voided aspirations,

Liquidation of a hope-mass.

Giggling poison with an apple-shaded cheek.

Putrid white deception

On the crimson-spangled bed.

Hand-label me and tell me I am cured.

 

Falling homeward.

Calling backward.

This or thatward?

Life must die.

 

Author's Note

Kind of like dying, but with less lights and noise.

Reviews

[Emily B]

there are days when numbness is really all we can hope for

[Calypso]

I'm not sure what the point of this is? Is the person dying in the hospital? Does the care givers even care that they are dying. Despite the fact I enjoyed it because of the emotion.

[Aaron Felix]

Hmm, I do like this. But, if you ever want to examine an other side of the whole "all life must die" hubbub, I would recommend highly Marcuse's essay "On the Ideology of Death." In this key, I especially enjoyed your focus on labeling and marking. I felt lost in triage, emotionally seasick.

[Collect-Eye]

I've been deep inside this one for a while now. If you ever need a hand, you know where to find me.