watchclock hospital

what kind of
asshole sadist
puts a ticking
clock in a
silent
hospital room?

hannah's friend has
an inner ear
problem that makes
her feel drunk all
the time so bad
that she can't
work for
two days and
is in
for
observation
and i'm jealous
because i
want to feel drunk
all the time
and not have a hangover,
too.

the clock is ticking us away
while we
talk about her
husband who's in
jail for
writing fraudulent prescriptions
because he was addicted to
painkillers.
she is still faithful even
though he won't see parole
for fifteen years and
she isn't getting any
younger.

we are ticking away
and the clock is talking
about how it's got
this bum hand
and i say,
no shit, me too.

ain't that funny,
buddy?


we compare scars
while the girls
talk.

we are all ticked out
and sonia
(that's hannah's friend)
is looking like an older
lady who has
forgotten
for a moment that
she isn't in a
hospital dressed
like a bad
sleepover
with her hair piled
up like last
week's laundry
sticking out from around
her head in nut
brown sun rays.

we sneak her into a bathroom
weaving and
wobbling
herself to the door,
so hannah and she can
split a
cigarette
because she's too
not-drunk woozy
to make it outside
and the little girl
camaraderie
illusion is so strong
that i want to kiss her
with my hand up
her shirt on her
soft, smooth tit
and look over my shoulder
wondering when her
parents will get home.

nurses walk by in white
shoes and i am doing
something classy
and non-
chalant
like scratching my
beard and
looking like
a thoughtful poet.
one of the nurses says
i look like a constipated
asshole
and i laugh until
the girls come out
with guilty looks
on their
faces and want to know
what's so goddamn
funny.

they look caught
and it makes me
laugh harder.

back in the room we
say our goodbyes
and i make sure
to get the
clock's
phone number,
because i
want to know if
he's free for
drinks on friday.

sonia has her legs tucked
under her and is a
smiling cat
with secrets as
we walk out.

it's good to have
secrets.