deepundergroundpoetry.com
at the hospital
At the hospital
At the waiting sit my wife is in with her doctor
In front of me to comely women sit one wears
A big bun in the back of her hair, the other one
A smaller bun.
I speculate if this bun difference manifests
Itself in their nether regions. My moral self,
steps in: don’t think like that the Me-too will
come after you, and that is scary,
A woman in a wheelchair throws up in a bag
Compose herself put lipstick on and wink
At me. No, thank you. I'm not wheeling you around
Anytime soon.
My wife is leaving the consulting room a big smile
In her African face, no, she has not got cancer
Only need knee surgery.
She is a colourful sight wear many rings and
Bracelets, today she is dressed in red and green
And lit up the landscape.
We drink coffee in the canteen while she tells
Me about her pains in her knee.
At the waiting sit my wife is in with her doctor
In front of me to comely women sit one wears
A big bun in the back of her hair, the other one
A smaller bun.
I speculate if this bun difference manifests
Itself in their nether regions. My moral self,
steps in: don’t think like that the Me-too will
come after you, and that is scary,
A woman in a wheelchair throws up in a bag
Compose herself put lipstick on and wink
At me. No, thank you. I'm not wheeling you around
Anytime soon.
My wife is leaving the consulting room a big smile
In her African face, no, she has not got cancer
Only need knee surgery.
She is a colourful sight wear many rings and
Bracelets, today she is dressed in red and green
And lit up the landscape.
We drink coffee in the canteen while she tells
Me about her pains in her knee.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 455
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.