Hospital hours stretch in and out of each other
I never locate a clock a calendar
I trick myself constantly for instance
I shower then spend two hours
trapped in the bathroom it is a formicarium
and I am a pharaoh ant swathed in spider-web
clawing my attenuated legs till blood is delivered
with afterbirth twinges of pain (this can’t be right)
the doorknob will not turn so I quiver against tile
and cry (this can’t be right)
I weep I think for hours I think when I escape
the earth will have reshaped into something perceivable
the nurse knocks Honey
Are you hungry?
The dinner cart is here
Jamie McGraw lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her pet hedgehog Bill, and recently earned an MFA from Queens University. Her work has appeared in Beatdom, Loose Change Magazine, and the APA journal Families, Systems, and Health.