A ten minute journey
the hospital gurney
an operating theatre,
attendant
the waiter, eternal ,but later ,referrals refer me to someone I know is not me and yet would be it is me.

I could see jasmine on the concrete, growing there, and quite discreetly blowing perfumed air everywhere
and in the courtyard, the ace of nines falling hard into another house of cards,flushing with a blush and crushing yet another pack,the jokers laughs but don't look back and nine is lucky or so they say
I rack my brains each day to find another book unbound and grind my teeth when all I see is what I've found.

The theatre is a
cut throat race
the service boat
the way to find a place defined,
the sea in which the kindly go
is not to know
none of it.