Routines

he sat there in his room gently shaking his head as he chalked ducks on the floor which then he carefully fed over in the corner watching him with glee the asylum keeper counted from one to ninety three ceaselessly repetetive each number chanted out sometimes in a whisper sometimes in a shout the warden made his rounds with his little boxes of pills each chosen for efficacy on a multitude of mental ills they washed them down with water on sundays gin and rum in lieu carefully rationing the alcohol to never more than a tot or two and there were watchers watching the watchers as they watched the rest each watching watcher watched in that observed observation test it all made perfect sense of course he thought as he shook his head ensuring that each chalked duck received its proper share of bread and every single morning when their clock struck ten the asylum keeper blew a whistle and the routine started off again