Poetry
Prose
Reading
HOSPITAL
the lid closes whether or not your face is hammered full of nails
spittle, as much as in a lifetime of humiliation,
long since bleached out this light, easy death
a hand can’t reach its own pain
the darkness of this night stands altogether outside events
you rent four flimsy walls
listen to the river flowing inside a paper carton
between bones left blank listen to the storm
wait for the next patient
as another tear flies into your eye
a shrill shout collides with the shining glass
becomes a cheer you’re ruthlessly driving the nails in