WARD 6B
They build half-worlds from the
rubble of memories crushed in
one instant of impact as their
spinal cords snapped.
-
They awake each grisly-taloned
dawn - verterans' veterans -
only to slip away again,
somehow fed and sedated, into
their deep and perpetual silence.
-
Their eyes are long corridors down
which an intern runs with bloody
hands and sweaty skin. A man weeps.
-
He lies locked in a frame, while,
overhead, a TV hums...a man in a
Campbell Soup hat has just won a cow.
-
Some shout, some stare, some weep:
a revolt to preserve the last shards of self.
(But at night, their dreams amble about
the yellow darkness, between the
breathing and the cries).
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