Those Drapes

Those Drapes
by John Severino
I sit.
The room has a disgusting plaid awning over
What appears to be a window.
The smell of antiseptic too potent to ignore.
Today, they made me pee in a jar
(All so civil and organized)
My heart palpitates as I ponder requests
For
Drugs I should not be taking-
Those curtains are hideous.
On the floor
A stool swims in my sedated visual.
It swims, pulsates,
I nod and blink
But the samples are coming, here they come.
Could the universe fit in this room?
Linoleum galaxies an’ paper stars-
If it was dark, I would not see those drapes.
I’m startled as the door is opened,
An energetic Asian man enters
Wearing nice shoes:
“Cannot give you post-dated scripts” he balks.
That’s nice, now give me my samples.
It dawns on me,
In this universe
Could he be the Christ?
An erudite doctor come to heal the sick?
Beats me,
I just want my samples.
We cordially shake hands
And he leaves.
From this place, this space
I defect
A defect
Sucked in and out of time,
A hallucinatory derelict
Smiling, holding a bag
Kindly exiting
Chirping seasonably down the corridor,
I merge with the night