The Hospital Cat

The surgeon had successfully removed his libido and fed it to the hospital cat. Corridors became whispering tubes for I.V. drip pushing wanderers, their pale bottoms peering out like beluga whales through the cracks of gaping gowns. He dreamed often, the drugs swiped his mind, he was a screen, that with flickering ease erased and replaced his life with crazily narrated electric poetry, a hypersonic buzz that pretzelled his thoughts. A nurse appeared to him between the sensual waves that spayed across his surgically mauled mortality. She was erotically enhanced, her trance-dance of sexuality poured into his flaccid organs like a shot of ice-cold Taquilla. Once she spoke to him - just once. Her words were umber honey between his parted lips. He struggled to understand. Clarity came upon him - "You're my libido." He had forgotten about the cat! She purred softly as she adjusted his pillows.