by John Severino
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
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 anâ€™ paper stars-
If it was dark, I would not see those drapes.
Iâ€™m startled as the door is opened,
An energetic Asian man enters
Wearing nice shoes:
â€œCannot give you post-dated scriptsâ€ he balks.
Thatâ€™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?
I just want my samples.
We cordially shake hands
And he leaves.
From this place, this space
Sucked in and out of time,
A hallucinatory derelict
Smiling, holding a bag
Chirping seasonably down the corridor,
I merge with the night