Hospital
In this cheerless forgotten spot
smudged toilet bowl walls and
crappy grey floor crusted with
a maniacs mosaic that makes no sense
a place that is supposed to make us feel better
.
we wait our turn to be inspected
like ragbag insect infested dogs
at a vet
.
somewhere
not too far away a vomit green door
opens and someone coughs
lungy and phlegmy
(probably not long for this world)
.
a wrinkled paper old man with
his umbrella walking stick
paces up and down in front of me
(this is fucking annoying)
.
the chairs are brown and beige and plastic
so boring and uninspiring they make me feel sick
.
just like the silly thoughtless moronic
beeping chip music
coming from the screens of the phones
that all my comrades are staring at
passive
lapping up the vapid nothingness
waiting
.
eventually my name is called
(wrongly)
by a scraggy old nurse
- more bored than I
from a grubby little room
(the sign says ‘ginecología’ but underneath is scribbled ‘anestesía’ in sloping black letters)
.
and I go inside and answer
a few questions read by
an unenthusiastic doctor from
a computer screen and potentially
sign my life away
on a photocopied form and
I would like to make a joke as
I get up to leave -
but I can’t think of one