Nima is sitting
waiting for you
in the corridor
of the hospital.
You see her there
in her dressing gown
and her hair tied
in a ponytail.
She has her arms folded,
and a dull look about her.
Thought you weren't coming,
she says.
Train was delayed,
you reply.
Let's go sit outside
in her grounds,
she says.
So you follow her out
through French windows
onto the grass
and sit on a bench.
How comes you're in
your dressing gown?
You say.
They're worried I might
try to escape,
so I have to wear
my dressing gown
and nightie,
she says.
Why might you escape?
you ask.
Mother told them
she told them
I might get out for a fix.
You nod your head:
and would you?
Possibly,
she says,
looking at you:
got a smoke?
You get out a packet
and light one
for both of you
and you sit there smoking
so what's been happening?
You ask.
Mother came
and we had a row
and she told them
I might escape to London
for a fix and they
believe her,
Nima says moodily;
she inhales deeply
you?
What you been doing?
You look past her
at other patients
walking on the grass:
work
making tools mainly,
listen to jazz,
you know usual,
you say,
too late to come
see you here.
Guess so,
but I miss you Benny;
each time I pass
that small cupboard
I think of us
having that quickie there
remember?
Yes,
you say smiling.
They keep it locked now,
Nima says,
typical bad luck;
what a life,
no you,
no ****
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
Nima is sitting
waiting for you
in the corridor
of the hospital.
You see her there
in her dressing gown
and her hair tied
in a ponytail.
She has her arms folded,
and a dull look about her.
Thought you weren't coming,
she says.
Train was delayed,
you reply.
Let's go sit outside
in her grounds,
she says.
So you follow her out
through French windows
onto the grass
and sit on a bench.
How comes you're in
your dressing gown?
You say.
They're worried I might
try to escape,
so I have to wear
my dressing gown
and nightie,
she says.
Why might you escape?
you ask.
Mother told them
she told them
I might get out for a fix.
You nod your head:
and would you?
Possibly,
she says,
looking at you:
got a smoke?
You get out a packet
and light one
for both of you
and you sit there smoking
so what's been happening?
You ask.
Mother came
and we had a row
and she told them
I might escape to London
for a fix and they
believe her,
Nima says moodily;
she inhales deeply
you?
What you been doing?
You look past her
at other patients
walking on the grass:
work
making tools mainly,
listen to jazz,
you know usual,
you say,
too late to come
see you here.
Guess so,
but I miss you Benny;
each time I pass
that small cupboard
I think of us
having that quickie there
remember?
Yes,
you say smiling.
They keep it locked now,
Nima says,
typical bad luck;
what a life,
no you,
no ****
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