Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘hospital’

Counting Bodies

For Nicole     I felt like I was in the morgue, counting bodies when I heard the doctors say, “Poor thing, she’s in a coma.” I had been doing aerial spins, loops, dives over and around my hospital bed. Hara-kiri didn’t work. I’d tried to swing on a butcher’s hook. And before that I lay down in a frosty white gown in a funeral home anticipating embalmment. No luck. […]

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Conditions prevail

The boy’s head swings from his neck, a cattail quivering under air’s humid gaze. On suicide precautions, he sleeps in the lobby. A bed like mine, but on display. I wonder how the boy said, I want to die. Every day, I wake at six, watch the news. Watch him sleep. Dark tufts of hair peek out of a cotton tomb. One morning, I crawl into bed with the boy. […]

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