#261 - hospitality

 

19.ix.20

261

hospitality

for Rob Edmonds and friends

 

hospital white is not a colour

you handle it with gloves

and pungent

it’s so’s to show the blood

 

something you contract

as golden

just to be there

dark will not come to nights

 

niether is silence

nothing belongs

we go through the innids

 

midst come catheter canula

hoarse spittle in harness

 

plug me in

and turn me on

 

hospital light’s unheavenly

rounds cold

and call your name

is it mine now?

you are listed

 

hospital clocks

stare cities out

won’t blink

time’s now and waiting

 

they will let you know

come for the frogs’ noses

 

hospital corners are hide underneath

here’s the weep while they sleep

so self sorry

 

ghosts of lost children

dance the air here

 

hospitals like to add and subtract

an organ, an implant

fresh plastic, cold steel

 

midst which motley

come the clowns

a music to themselves

 

hospital poems

trail off like this

hear that mid last century hiss

count under a mask till you’re gone