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Defcon 4

Tonight the understaffed was overloaded with impatient calls n' flashing buttons buzzing the central core I marathoned from room to room in frantic answer My vision rang from Rocky Horror, the Ringling Brothers to your flesh and blood side show...in one nightmare slow breath It was as hyper-real as a whole sandwich in the pit of one mans mutant mouth moving in slo-mo As unreal as Pinocchio's carved hands, bleating on bloated bellies & rolling in dough & Then to watch one black pincht princess bolt up in her barred bed Her beady eagles on a bearded lady....disrobing article after article, In a constant beat beat repeating...Why did Daddy do it? Me...I'm just crossing my index to ring finger in hopes it will go away ...It's countdown and 40 rooms seems too long to earth the same beds, woozy rooms, rising temperatures and more multiple people unbedded and tied to chairs Peace cannot be found here or in the hand of whitta-whitta whittering words Tonight under the full moon....she hangs on my whites-pleading for that abstract something, for cement feet to take on liquid answers. for one big black hole of understanding to scoop her vocals & make sense of her While the squirrel lady sobs deep into my back about some strange Pope filled room with bloody crucifixes and fervent praying hands She points to Uncle Sam up in his military sky-condemning me to another, just as horrible war The delirium in this place multiplied the last straws of my sanity My finger really wanted to hail the waitress for the check... And why did that frothy mouth frighten me so? Why did the lady feel so cold ? The very stiff yellow lady... The realization screamed me out of the room and into the hall with vision of toe tags and body bags Paralyzed, shaking, buzzers-buzzing, callers calling. my feet running detonating the uranium in my head Where bad little Hiroshima's dance over the fence of my dreams Where the day after is possible …... Possible? Can it be true ….. Is my shift over?.... (working in an Nursing Home with an 102.5 fever)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 12/20/2014 8:54:00 AM
I'm sitting in a nurse's station, it's 0120. I hate these 10 hour nights!!! But at least I'm sitting, not running, dancing, juggling, like you describe here. May you have a day/night like this one soon. With all my sympathy, empathy, and fellow nurses understanding, excellent write.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things