Excuses

I am waiting
    disgustingly sterile,
    for the Dr.
    "call me barb"
    Anderson (or whoever).
I am waiting
    for the buzz of the spin cycle
    and summer-heat; 5 months claustrophobia-free
    of woolen staticy socks.
I am waiting
    for my tax return - and my (please god) period.
I am waiting
    for the bus, and Mr. McCool,
    my hero outside the one-hour photo.
I am waiting for this
    all talk and no dancing
    to cease and desist.
I am waiting
    for my bread to be toast
    and "The Goonies" to rewind
      oh! that tragic climax.
I am waiting
      for Judgement Day
      for a cool beer
      for Masterpiece
      for metamorphosis
      for my turn
      for oblivion
      to come
      for significance
      for inspiration. . .

My name being bellowed from the nurses' station.
Shut up..I'm busy.