the white flags fly on the green,
(visible even in this dark)
flitter in the wind by the drive
cordoned off by orange, the
blinking cruisers follow you in, follow
you out, these uneasy escorts
the night of the hospital: the
faces swim behind the bulletproof
plastic bored with holes for speech to
trickle through
the forms written out in triplicate, the
scrips to be filled, the voices
over the telephone, yes, this,
but not that, watch for the red lines.....
milky liquid, ruby liquid, squirting
syringes, so much of sickness and then
--to sleep
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