UNDUE INFLUENCE

It’s my home.
Even if there are rats,
I want to go home.

Mold grows on
the dishes in the sink.
Roaches crawl
everywhere you look.

I’m not sick.
I don’t know why I’m here.
I feel good.

Prostitutes
and drug dealers stay rent
free: use her
home and her good heart.

They need my help.
They tell me they’re sick
with cancer.

Unable to
resist those
preying on
her mental disorder.

The dogs clean
the house. They are
my helpers.

Living in filth,
feces on
the floor, with
no food in the fridge.

I will stay.
They are treating me
so good here.

In the nursing
home she’s clean.
The squatters,
evicted from her home.

 

FUTBOL

A foot in the chest,
a kick in anger,
has landed him here.

He feels good he said,
much better than then,
as does his poor foot:

sprained from the hard kick,.
the victim was built,
said he didn’t feel it.

Still, a referral
was made to prevent
further violence.

This was not the first
outburst and the Home
wants the patient out.

Something about suits,
safety, the last straw:
the man was watching

futbol and only
wanted to emulate
what he saw that day.

 

ROOM SPINNING

I feel the room spinning
each time I take this
new drug. It’s no better
than the old drug. In
fact it’s worse and I’d
rather be drug free.

It was a mistake when
I was brought in here.
People think I’m crazy,
but I’m not. The nurse
over there is sleeping
with my ex-husband.

I know she wants to keep
my blood doped up so
we can’t get re-married.
I don’t care if she says
she has never met
my husband. She lies.