10-25-2017, 11:27 AM
A far door swings open and a doctor
and a nurse waltz in like synced-dancers.
No words, one in a white coat, the other
in a V-neck solid blue top. Adorned
with silver watches, matching black
stethoscopes
each carries a platinum chart.
In Room 627, all but one line has been taken
out, bluish-morphine is every hour
on the hour. Plastic pens click, a head sinks
into a white pillow like a fallen snow angel
the two of them
two-step quickly down
the polished linoleum floor, past all
closed doors—
proud and confident, young
and living among the dead.
and a nurse waltz in like synced-dancers.
No words, one in a white coat, the other
in a V-neck solid blue top. Adorned
with silver watches, matching black
stethoscopes
each carries a platinum chart.
In Room 627, all but one line has been taken
out, bluish-morphine is every hour
on the hour. Plastic pens click, a head sinks
into a white pillow like a fallen snow angel
the two of them
two-step quickly down
the polished linoleum floor, past all
closed doors—
proud and confident, young
and living among the dead.