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Sick Humour

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Sick Humour

Living death ,hotel for hypochondriacs?
Where there are rarely empty beds
But some bodies may soon be.
Bright curtains are there for all
To screen their shame and pain,
Though the final curtain will surely
On some soon fall..

Blue-jacketed staff breezily
Glide about their tasks 
Smoothly and swiftly
Until becalmed by a lull
At the nursing station
Before a maelstrom erupts.

Suddenly a sour smell wrinkles noses
 And the team sweeps into action.
Soothing and rancourless,
"You're a terrible man!"we hear them say
As they set about erasing
The evidence of soiled humanity.

Yet we see their neurosis 
Over death-defiling bugs
In the continued wiping 
Of bed rails and curtains of grime
And then there is peace 
In our time.

There will be other flurries,
Punctuating regular routine
But, respite gained,they relax.
A question about the time ,
Is met with,"Ten past s***e!"
Cathartic laughter refreshes 
Them for the long ,long night .

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  1. Date: 10/13/2010 4:11:00 PM
    good sounds like a retake of clockwork orange or one flew over the coocoos nest? good job! Light & Love