You lie there with your back
Half dug in the dirt of the hospital bedsheet
They change these sheets
Almost as often as you soil them
But then, you also bleed and spit
Involuntarily.
If it was an open field
It wouldn’t have mattered
You could just lie and see where
You were going
The vultures circling above
Keeping an eye
Till you stopped seeing
Where you were going.
In the hospital
They don’t let you see
Where you are headed
And you can’t see
The vultures waiting for you.
July 19, 2011
