the Destruction of word(s)

A process beckoning
Our words into our actions in which mellow drama ensues
Cocktail party to happy hour to a show-- the habitat of Man
& Woman into the deep shallow end of a swimming pool.

The walls concave
As globs of afterbirth absorb into the soil – life process 101
The quietness rejoins loud shouting-- whispers nods of sleep
Cajole into a celebration of sickness a gloomy atmosphere.

A scent of sterile filth
Lingers seat to seat between all the coming and goings of all.
The madness in the smoking section all due to selective paperwork
spare me this for just a couple moments until I receive urgent care.





drugs i prefer the white pills
the mellow ones with the writing
1200mg the ones that keep you quiet
until the room begins to spin tilt a whirl
no Tylenol™ shit get me the white ones
i smoke outside shaking in a process
of reconciliation the way I pray is self medication
the way I self medicate is to numb the treatment
i have not gone to the bathroom in days
i smile to indicate the uncomfortable awkwardness
of borrowing a cigarette from a stranger with a neck brace
my colon is black my IV still works
the machines keep me medicated
i almost prefer the muggy rain it keeps me entertained
there is a certain perspective one must keep
to keep the mind relaxed and calm
i could never do the meditation
no new age crap for me boy just the medication
the pills are my salvation
my generation is medicated


I like the nurse with black bra
She’s seems to be a medical assistant
I wonder if she works much
I think it might be impolite to ask
She has a freckle on her nose
And when she checks my blood pressure
I notice the frilly black bra
I wonder if she saw that I looked
I wonder if she wore it on purpose
Her blue scrubs hide her figure
She seems like no nonsense type of person
I make a joke not even a eyebrow raise
She is at work not at a bar
I feel self conscious
She pokes me in my stomach
I pretend to not feel any pain
She tells me to stop smoking
And looks into me eyes
Like she really means it

I buzz from room to room
spinning my wheels
one door way into another
a maze of sorts.
The man pushing me seems
to not to talk to the sick
he sort of seems to be
intent on getting me there.
Not quite sure where there is
but another waiting room
to wait for another.
I wonder how much waiting
is done in a single day
this place is built around the idea
of waiting for help.
Success is the ability
to wait it out to wait out a gamble
people who cannot wait
often find themselves at risk.
I wait for the x-ray
I wait for the cat scan
I wait for the doctor
to tell me what she thinks we should do
wait it out she replies.
I wait for my pain medicine
I wait for the bill to come
from the hospital.
Anticipation builds from waiting
a certain feeling you have
in your gut just to wait
but what if we had instant results
would we get nervous right away
would we worry so much
would we be so happy when we waited
and what we waited for was all worth it--
I am so impatient.