 contra conception by autotelic A grey haired troll like woman sits on the step outside the intermediate ward entrance demanding money , cigarettes and a man
She's in the secure facility next door but they let her stray
As they know if they forget her she'll break back in
Her fingers are yellowy brown, she's been burnt by life
She confides to visitors she can no longer piss
The ward staff eventually relent and hand her some bread
The meds clearly arent working
She's still way too conscious
And once she finishes eating she outlines her list of demands again
Then spits on the ground and tells everyone to fuck off
Politely.
The young gay guy at the fence recently found out he has AIDS
He's on the ward for taking an overdose
He's on a voluntary section
When he arrived he wanted to be here Now he's not so sure there's any reason to be
He and his lover dress up for the review
They look like they have plans to flee
The unit's psychiatrist has other plans
He compulsorily sections the man for his own safety
There's no escaping life here either
Alone or otherwise
It's fucking prosecuted relentlessly
In the asylum only the life affirming have the key to the cage
It's a dull closed universe of compliance
Designed to crush those with even a glint of striped rebellion left in their eyes
As proof the broken tygers trudge cosmic patterns around the exercise yard
Erratically clawing at old foes and festering hopes A little African woman girl Skips along playing with the dolls in her own head Personalties dimly clash and interact The depressives tread deep blue water Standing apart the blonde ward nurse sternly counts her charges
Using the fingers of both hands In the sunlight
Her ' What Would Jesus Do? ' bracelet sparkles As a reminder
I think why doesnt she ask him? He's in the television room Surfing channels for the big game.
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