Hospital needs a title
Another poem I included in my sample for the application... but I just took part of the title out. Need to think of a new title. Any suggestions?
HOSPITAL
Didn’t drink nothin, doctor,
just water from the faucet.
Always thirsty, only cold.
Sleep. Wake. Cheerios.
Sesame Street, sleep.
Drink.
Kids sleeping in this unit.
All an accident, believe
my crusty eyes.
I sit like you told me,
in a green plastic chair,
cut red, orange
construction paper feathers
for my paper bag turkey.
I’ll hang on my balloon’s string.
Please. I see your name-tag jiggling.
Hard, blood squeeze out
Sweet Jesus, fingertips, tingle.
Snot drips down face
on this circus robe.
Learn to take shots,
give stuffed Bear shots,
mom and dad shots,
not so bad. Till
they dump out the sugar
from the sugar water.
No orange pill bottle in my pocket,
promise.
I’ll take the shots,
but not here where sickies crawl
IV’s still attached, smell
of piss and soap.
Green JELLO slid down throat,
hair crimped into sweat.
Dad sits on the bed,
with lab-coat and tag.
Jiggling.
My eyes broke,
don’t know why they’re wet.
Don’t take my picture like this.
Please, dad.
Give my balloon back
before it pops.
HOSPITAL
Didn’t drink nothin, doctor,
just water from the faucet.
Always thirsty, only cold.
Sleep. Wake. Cheerios.
Sesame Street, sleep.
Drink.
Kids sleeping in this unit.
All an accident, believe
my crusty eyes.
I sit like you told me,
in a green plastic chair,
cut red, orange
construction paper feathers
for my paper bag turkey.
I’ll hang on my balloon’s string.
Please. I see your name-tag jiggling.
Hard, blood squeeze out
Sweet Jesus, fingertips, tingle.
Snot drips down face
on this circus robe.
Learn to take shots,
give stuffed Bear shots,
mom and dad shots,
not so bad. Till
they dump out the sugar
from the sugar water.
No orange pill bottle in my pocket,
promise.
I’ll take the shots,
but not here where sickies crawl
IV’s still attached, smell
of piss and soap.
Green JELLO slid down throat,
hair crimped into sweat.
Dad sits on the bed,
with lab-coat and tag.
Jiggling.
My eyes broke,
don’t know why they’re wet.
Don’t take my picture like this.
Please, dad.
Give my balloon back
before it pops.

3 Comments:
Is this from your own experience?
By
Megumi, At
10:28 AM
well... i hesitate to say anything, lest it influence your own (initial) interpretation of the poem...
By
B-Go, At
12:14 PM
this one i understand
my sweet girl with sad eyes sitting on the bed. SAG
By
Anonymous, At
2:21 PM
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