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.
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