Hospital visitors 28.01.2011.
The disarrayed folk collected here,
dragged out at strange times
are huddling behind the swish doors
that flap open, give way
to a fate that is
to a fate that is
death or deliverance.
We mass in the corridor,
just beyond the life support business.
The heart and heat of terror
seers, coalescing inside us.
We are aghast as never
before.
The hand cleansers
are salvation
We wash away certainty,
cleanse fear,
bacteria, everything
here at the font,
bathe sorrow over
and over again,
fist over fist.
