Tea in a Plastic Beaker

Grey machinery

Tainted with war monger’s chic

Beep

Trays of medication spelling out confusion

Phials of blood

And walls painted with sterility

Awash with mundane voices of bureaucracy

In corridors lost

Looking for crap coffee and maybe a Twix

NHS has a beat with goodness at its heart

But frightened ladies

Cowed by the grudge of a rumour

Swallowed up by lines on a clipboard

Whilst in the chapel they silently pray

Wendy says that blood is “wibbly-wobbly”

Baleful glares from far away

Have you been to Hull and back again?

Can text messages contain poison

If sent with enough venom?

All a backdrop to the dark lair of your mind

Beep

Beep

Almost saw a full moon

An eyeful more than expected

Daggers aimed in danger

The tower block of memory

The time they wheeled a body in beneath a black sheet

Just 15 years of age

Time-travelling spitefulness

Not moved on an inch or less

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

Can’t sleep

Beep

Beep

Beep

©John de Gruyther 2013