trying not to think of the hospital, thinking of the hospital

Inside the White Palace

Tonight, nothing
tastes right. You are trying to save
the tiger again, this time

she’s in the shape of a girl
huddled at the head of a hospital
bed, fighting off

the hospice nurses, their
kind needles, with a glare and a wave.
Transparent guidebooks

stabbed directly under
the bruised skin at her elbows. White
noise shaped like two

hands, the tubes keeping her
tied to this town whisper and hum like
a tanker powering up at the dock.

You shave the tiger’s head,
camouflage her with a shimmering beret
and red spotted tights.

Mashed peas slipping
on the spoon they offer like the oily
fluid of secret aphids.

Her white tongue  a snow-
blind otter, starting to feel: Nothing
tastes right tonight.


4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. noxalio
    Apr 12, 2011 @ 15:35:54

    there are so many memorable lines in this … quite a journey you take us in … as though down a mad rush of a mountain stream … (one of those poems whose first reading leaves one a bit stunned) … enjoyed it, immensely …



  2. Jay St. Vincent (NoviceNaturalist)
    Apr 12, 2011 @ 17:11:19

    This one is especially especially vivid. I don’t usually comment, but I always feel a sense of pleasing anticipation when I see ‘down the rabbit’ pop up in my reader, just so you know. Jay


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