The week that wasn’t

Watching flesh

Watching needle puncture flesh

Feel needle, watch flesh, feel flesh

See blood, my blood

My flesh needle blood

.

I dreamed a dream of déjà vu

Only to wake and find it true

.

It’s the shiny white one

Which tablet?

.

Laying on crisp white sheets

Dressed in combats black

A tube from lung

Preventing any action

.

It’s the shiny white one

Which tablet?

.

Patients with patience

Those who have been, seen, done

The whole routine

No point rushing

Or hurrying staff

.

They swarm

Those white clad ones

Some with red bits

Some with blue

But they still swarm

.

It’s the shiny white one

Which tablet?

.

Death suspends tea service

It’s a matter of priority

Apparently…

So no biscuit either

For a while

.

And why is the fat fuck here?

With their extensive knowledge of food

Of additives – fat – sugar – salt levels

So why are they here?

Scooting round like a shelled dalek

Mumbling fatitudes

To all who don’t want to listen

Squeezed tires protesting

At every turn of the wheel

Such knowledge smothered in ignorance

Must be their glands

.

Which tablet?

.

It’s the shiny white one

Which tablet?

.

Of all the places

For the dark to rise again

Seething hatred for man kindred

Laying amongst whining suffering

My soulless heart lashes in silence

A phrase reverberates

They shoot horses…

.

Centre of their own universes

Each one, be all and end all

Vying for limited resources

Loudest gets most

From the swarm

.

A stereotype! No! Really?

Yes, a stereotype – the gay/camp

Male nurse

.

Ok ok

It’s the shiny white one

Thank you

.

Let me out

Please…