Officially, I’m waiting

Sitting in a straight side chair

Soft Muzac bubbling babel

Over ears wishing they could sneeze.

Flourescents gossip in groups of three

Behind brash brushed egg crates

Pewter toned and business suited

Mocking my denims and plaid.

Realization hits and I curl my toes

Against the silent absurdity

Here I am in a waiting room

Trying not to let its walls dictate

An eggshell pallid stretch.

Trying to make a prisoner’s escape

Into cybernetic space

Where distant colors beckon,

And soon I’m where I want to be.

No one is in pain

This time its just for information

Decisions have to be made

And its best that they be right.

I thought her sweet

In some disturbed dimension

Blood viscosity thickening

And bangs all Spartan thin.

Demanding small adjustments

Offered daily doses

Better living through chemistry

And selecting from organic.

Life runs out for everyone.

Just let the leak be slowed

And savor one’s demise

Under some comforting illusion 

That one is in control

That while waiting to exhale

There are no waiting rooms

Sterile, pale, and futile.

But walks where toes can curl

In the warm sand of beaches

And the lowering sun

Gently pulls the moon and tides

Into singing long white ribbons

While evening’s distant cool approach

Is detained within some holding cell

Long enough for us to stroll

Hand in hand once more

Through ardor tinted dreams.