Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Flo

can't breathe and his kidneys have had it

he's a dead duck if the machinery ceases

I could do anything I wanted with the guy

as a girl I used to pull my dolls to pieces

 

he gets no visitors so what is the point?

zero enquiries or flowers, no one cares

scant thanks when I change his nappies

all I ever get is moans and blank stares

 

does he have a clue how much this costs?

this must be the most expensive bed in town

I used to have an Irish setter, when its back

legs went I stole a syringe and put it down

 

matron's monitoring me, she's seen that

helpless hectic glint that invades my eyes

when they die, like an orgasm, involuntary,

no medical grade mask can ever disguise

 

my brother died when he was only young

found comatose at the bottom of the stair

I try not to remember what happened as

he jumped and me and pulled at my hair

 

Florence Nightingale died intact a virgin

surrounded by troops of horny Hussars

what a gross waste of military personnel

I'd have made a whole platoon see stars

 

bed's empty it seems he went last night

frustrating not to watch the tubes pulled

I love all the blood and snot at the finish

a thrill to observe sick animals get culled

 

 

🌷(2)

syringematronnursehospitalcomatoseFlorence Nightingale

◄ The Sailor

Burghers ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message