Saturday, August 21, 2010

Hospital

This garden’s white and green

Fat with waste-waxed floors

Crisp white machines.

“Good veins,” approves Nurse Thing.

A room with a view of sky.

Last sight; last rite.

This is a garden of wolf’s tongue

And wean balm,

of Queens’ Ears and

Devils’ Teeth.

This is a garden of the sick to death,

A formal garden of the

Never mind.

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