Poem 389

Boredom frustration and despair is the infection that’s being doubled here … no exit …

Wrong Turn Somewhere

Two dead bodies
double the infection
in bed on a Wednesday lunchtime
once they met just to talk
in a car by the parade
but they both
know too many joggers

this is the place to drop out
he thinks
                    the weakest glass
in my life
                  just not get up
when she comes back from the bathroom
cinching herself into a dressing gown
with the finality of a third act curtain
refuse to stir
                          let the bulldozer pick me up
in its blade
                        see what it gets me

the psych ward
                                a new life
                                                   kick up the arse
                                                   from her husband