abandoned

abandoned,

lying in rooms

reeking pungent disinfectant

abandoned,

numb in wooden chairs

staring endlessly down empty corridors

hear them weakly drowning?

the vacuum suctioning?

are we sometimes not restless,

confused with the terminal unbroken silence?

abandoned,

lying in rooms

placidly complying,

hands turned to festered flesh

hands forcing fluids into rigid mouths

fingers prying open cemented jaws,

joints,

machines now stimulating any impulse

from their sluggish spiritless nerve network,

where messages implode

into lingering pain,

then slink back into desolation

Bisbee

July, 1979