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April 13, 2018

And why don’t psychiatrists wear scarves?

Or vests when it’s cold?

Today, I step out,

Yesterday, I stayed within.

I couldn’t take a step, or make a call,

Prostrate. Now I look at sugar spilled.

But, who is this stepping out of this door?

Now, she gains profit, it seems.


Depression of a period, come early,

By two days. I slept a day through.

Now my simple plans seem wasted,

Gone with the wind: away.

In hopes of a doctor’s swift arrival,

A ridiculous hope. Time is nothing to him.

Little, at any length,

Today, I’ve much to do.

My legs feel weakened,

From a day indoors.

In bed, asleep,

And yet, I remain weary.

Rather oddly, I’m weary,

But then, yesterday is lost.


To regain a day ….

Could he be timely ….

Little hope, little chance,

I watch through a crack in the door.

I addressed a superior wrongly,

Oddly, I’ve overcome a weakness.

But discovered another,

Overcome, overcome …. doctor.

Never sees fault: I see fault,

To drink, to drug: I’d live.

I sleep. I’m elsewhere,

In a void. A nowhere place.

I dream: a false dream,

Headache, of course:

Too much sleep: wearied,

And of course, he must work

Daily. Noisily. My head aches ….

Make a final appearance.

A final stand. I must,

But why ….


All I need is sleep,

I’ll be found, not in my clothes.

This will become infamous,

To my right, a drink.

Not a hard drink: hard enough,

I make a move.

I ring: response,

I enter: an ugly face.

Await alarm, or not,

I blame Monday.

The Monday unexpected,

Tuesday was a victory.

Today must be its equal,

I’m feeling poorly, ghastly.

Doctor, always late,

Patient (me), always early.


Always on, near the telephone,

She calls, no response.

From within our cocoon, we hear,

Strange sounds, normal sounds.

Doctor will call my day normal,

My lost day. My darned day.

I ate three meals of cereal,

That’s all there is these days.

This morning, it sickens me,

This does not assure that we shan’t repeat.

I’ll be sickened, but I’ll see another day,

Idiot: you closed the door.

I’d left it open. You fool!

Now, welcome to four walls.


You do nothing. Why do you come?

Another fool: she closes the door.

She does nothing. Whispers through a door,

You’re tired? I spent a day in bed.

A day in bed, asleep. Not refreshed,

Footsteps in a stairwell.

Ah. You’re unwell madam?

You’re tired madam? I could kill myself madam.


I sat briefly in a park,

I’ve ants all over me.

A strange system …. I don’t understand,

It’s baffling, bafflingly wondrous.

I’ll’ve soon done as I wished not,

He’ll no longer preference others.

False optimism. Strange photos of failures,

He lived out a life of failure:

An afterlife of renown,

What to do in an hour?

I’m poisoned. I can feel it,

My stomach rots, slowly.

It’s eaten by the flesh eating ants,

Oh, I’m late? You’re always late!


Why am I the sole occupied?

This footfall is not doctor’s.

Children are prioritised, I’ve remarked,

And why so? They’re infirm, and why?

Doctor, doctor, child, doctor,

It’s quite unjust. I’ve time free.

Waiting, before a machine,

Are the ants from café or from park?

Café, far too peopled. Park also,

Park where one drinks from a can.

Another blows away ashes and rubble,

I walk slow, for slow is my mood.

In my mind, I’m slow. And he’s late,

She walks with a crutch:

An idiot, we say,

Don’t count minutes.

You’re late: don’t count minutes,

I’ve much counting to do.

I count down also,

Then, holidays, and depression ….


I forgot to go,

But the drugs remain.

I’ve much need for these drugs,

So says doctor.

He’s always late,

So what does he know?


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