Conscious Ooze Poets
On The Ward
The Cytarabin will drip into me slowly over three hours
I’m all alone here, after 7.30pm
Just the tick tick tick of the pump
And the endless narration of mindless crap from the TV’s
Why am I here?, in solitary confinement
Thinking of dying before I thought I would
Listening to music that might take my mind off the precariousness of this situation
My piss is green!!, I feel hollow.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
That bags finished, so the pump says
Here comes the nurse, hi!, Yeah I’m (not) OK.
Connect the next one
If it’ll work, I don’t care if I puke, or shake a lot
Just pour it in
Can you turn off the TV?.
2.36am, looking out across the city
lots of lights
It’s dead quiet
And for the first time
I’m scared to sleep.
by Lawrence Westland
copyright©Lawrence Westland 2010
Hiding - photo by Maggie Westland