H is for
the horror of being
held hostage
in a hospital bed
lulled by mechanical murmurs
much better than Marilyn Manson.
E is for
elephants exercising exuberantly
(Pilates will never be the same)
envisioned by a compromised mind
during a drug induced drunk.
L is for
lips longing for liquid
peeling and pining
for a sponge bath
by a disembodied hand
dressed by Monsieur Louis Latex.
P is for
post-op
plug in every port
draining dreaded extras
pariahs in pink
preventing pus
in a haphazard hurry
to make the five o’clock bus.
Tongue is comatose
beeps do the speaking
in medical Morse code
seasoned drums ignore…
they’ve heard it all before.



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