The Waiting Room
The door slams shut with a loud bang. We left all our belongings secured at the entrance. From whom? Them? Or us? Burly guards, made bigger still by Kevlar vests, Open doors to let even more walking wounded in. It seems no one ever leaves. You sit and wait, quietly cataloging the others. It’s hard not to notice the transvestite explaining the best way to slit someone, Or the shivering girl with the tears streaming down her face. People wrapped in thin hospital blankets wander around like a strange cult Or lay like cloaked cadavers on couches. A boy and his dad cheer on the ballgame While they systematically snack through the vending machine. They both agree to avoid row 4 – the “healthy “ food. The game is long over as they sit still waiting for a room. The boy’s hands are spotless as he repeatedly cleans them And bobs his head to a tune only he can hear. A young man dressed nattily in a prep school uniform Sporting reform school initials Is stealthily watched by his two male companion...