The Hospital
There I was,
sick son in hand,
visiting the hospital
the faces there were all bowed
as if hiding
I played with the little child
and the cross-eyed baby
and talked to the mother about ways to remedy the sight
I saw the prancing man,
who didn't care
and tall giant with beautiful eyes
there sat quietly
a buxom lady on the wooden seats
it was our turn then I knew
from the card that was carried by the couple in front
a card as long as an examination sheet
the couple, a mustached man and his wife
entwined in eternity and in drugs
then I knew
the hidden faces
the guarded eyes
the wandering stares
that looked as I walked and talked nonchalantly
the prancing man
I knew
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