Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Fish Tank in the Hospital Waiting Room

The Fish Tank in the Hospital Waiting Room

Minnow in the shark tank
Not even big enough to fathom the blink
To consume my little self
In this ocean of selves

Lost like a dot on the stitch
Of Waldo’s magazine shirt missed
Scanning for men in a fish tank of grins
Cupid is somewhere behind the lens

Taking pictures of prized couples and tends
To ignore the sense that the arrow
Was somehow backwards and bent
Stabbed with a fletching
Can I get it resent?

Quivering in this crowded hospital
So many physicians around, but no instruments
To observe the sounds inside my chest
Might as well go wait in the bay to collapse

This heart is broken and praying to stop
Ignoring the truth, that rejection is near absolute
Medicine I hide under the sink
With the chemical cleaners that warnings
Tell you not to drink

But the poison is in my veins
Lines I wish I had not read
Are piling up like traffic cars, jack-knifed
With crumpled wheels, rims rolling into truck beds

Of one half sides, slept in morning times
That take longer to wake because the day
Only has so many new words to say
Talking in boomerang to call it sane

Accidents on a highway just out of reach
Hoping to collide at least for the feeling of speech
Slipping in to ask if I was ok
Knowing tomorrow is another busted day

Exhausted and lost and these blind fish keep getting tossed
Back in the pool to re-circulate with the lost
Bumping in with their busted fins
Scales stripped never knowing how soon a bloody mouth
Could make this over with

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