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