i dislike
service calls
in hospitals
the sterility
in filth
bright lights
amplify every
secret flaw
an exposure
in illnesses
as overworked
faces greet
agonized souls
in barometric
disaster of
inclement death

it feeds the
butcher shop in
my haunted mind
with images and
invisible threats
as i keep my
head down and
try to escape as
quickly as i can
back to my small
hamster ball in
which to roll
about the city
a part of and
apart from the
mass of messy humans
so lost in solipsistic
existence they
don’t see the
teeming thrall of
miseries hovering
around their heads
cartoon birds
signalling a fresh
conscussion as the
horns sound angrily

hospitals and old
funeral homes
seem to be the only
places on my schedule
which if i beleived
in fate would be
concerning i bet
instead it just shows
the itinerary of
humanity in frozen
snapshots of decline
as i shuffle through
barely cognizant at all
cannot be fixed
will not be saved
just another cow
in line for the
air hammers in the
darkness of salvation