The hooded men are staring at me through the curtains
There's no running away from here
The old walrus has moved to another ward another casualty moves next to me with a dialysis machine might as well be a jack hammer.
The mahogany corpse through the curtains looks half dead, and the old dear probably is.
I am surrounded by alarm bells defibrillator junkies are jolted back to life.
The ear plugs help block out other people's nightmares I am left with the pulse of my thumbing heartbeat.
This place is so used to life and death.
Tomorrow my plan is to walk out of here alive
Ursula who's is to my right is deliriously German originally moved from Berlin to NZ in 1945 after the war..She sits on a commode and shits on her gown.
She is undressed with a scissor's
The Catheter at the end of my bed is looking like a Heineken brewery.
When will the Doc. with the metal ear detect the murmur of a Welsh hymn in my heart.
Donkey man is fast asleep he wakes out of a dream feeling shell shocked and feverish he wants to kill the noise.His English heart has finally clogged up with arrogant shrapnel from karma's last post signalling the end of the day..
Avie..
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