1995, I can’t wait. I am the languor of soldiers sick seven
in regimental pyjamas the windows of the
yellow hospital it was I first saw tragedy—
unfurl the yellowing sail, thick crusted mildew brass—
vertebrate with heel met in vertebrate—gristle
backs are the hallowed mediator. how decadent
the sick high on drugs craazy with this this
liberation my infestation; praise be to my infection.
I am the nurse one thigh e m e r g i n g from a dream
like fire back burner beaten back wards under moss
it was a nowhere time of day
rain drilled the tin hat roof
seven sick soldiers in pyjamas regimented.
I am a chameleon clasped onto the faulty blind that sees
lizard back bill head hiding frigidity from the flaccid
patrolling I renege on any camouflage, oh no! as
much as I fear the syringe love the nurse
man, woman and fake fox fur finch I, arrested in brown
unnoticed another century, three this week. ends
the pills arrive; this means war, I go under:
so cool meet me over there—
lozenge no please, let me sleep on, a while...