The nurses at the front desk
throw folders
and wisecracks
across the spaces between them,
and offer one
as a moving target
for a game of darts
with pretend syringes.
Watching the relaxed bustle,
I'm reminded of a line
from Stranger In A Strange Land,
where "waiting is",
but at times you have to wait so fast
that you move at blurred speed.
All seasoned with
a light-handed graveyard humor,
promising to make sure
and dull the needles for me
special-like next time.
Just to make it official,
I throw my folder
at the main perp at the front desk
when leaving.
The dartboard du jour
cheers with thumbs up.
I'm one of the gang.