about living on the psych ward, published in Whetsone Literary Magazine |
psych ward faded flannel pajamas and foamy slippers with your toes poking out they make us wear these so we'll be easily recognized if spotted wandering down main street that's what they say - but you know the real reason is so you'll be able to tell the difference between the patients and the doctors otherwise you'd never know for sure you see, the patients are all calm and cool as night the doctors are more like tasmanian devils sweeping unexpectedly thru the ward hiding behind a facade of white coats and clipboards causing more havoc and destruction than a midsummer tornado in a trailer park and you're never sure what just hit you then there are the pills orangepillsbluepillslittlewhitepills pills on trays pills in paper cups pills you swallow pills you choke on pills that make you sleep and when you wake you find you are 19 years older and have grown a beard then you talk he talks she talks everybody talks at once and nobody knows what anybody's talking about ah, but it's all therapy, you see albert does laps first time around he's got the biggest darned smile you ever did see next time around he's lost his best friend or alice with the white bandage wrapped around her head who wanders complacently into anybody's room and climbs into occupied beds and george oh, george, the stories you tell twice you were married to cleopatra and your guidance comes from lightbulbs then there's me just like me once i was sane then i came here now i am not |