The hands on the clock make a perfect ‘V’ now
As I watch from the rigid green chair.
He sits next to me, eyes narrowed, foot tapping.
Opposite, a bald headed man winces.
The child in the corner cries for his mum
while she absently reads ‘ok’.
Stark fluorescents blink, blithely
Ignoring the anxiety beneath
The brisk nurse nods and calls my name, heralding
the longed-for, loathsome moment.
The doctor with the unfathomable face
holds my future in his folder.
Back home, the cup rattles in its saucer