Prologue-


Doctor: Get the cosmetologist.

Nurse: But Doctor his relatives
will be here soon.

Doctor: Look, do you know
what people want? They want
happy corpses
not grinning emaciated skulls.


(1)

The nurse hurries off
I can hear her starched skirt
rubbing her thighs
as she walks away.

I think I have a hard-on.
I feel really good.
That prick of a Doctor
is picking his nose
reading my charts
probably checking
for clinical errors.

Ah, the pretty nurse is returning.

"Doctor, the cosmetologist is off duty."

"Well put rouge on his cheeks.
You pull one side of his mouth
and I'll pull the other.
He is grinning like a fucking gargoyle
yes that's better.
O God what's that!"

The prick of a Doctor points to my
upstanding prick.

Blind ears see her reply-

"Oh my!"

Meanwhile my astral body
has one hand up her skirt
while the other
is pulled towards the light.



(2)


I hear cobwebs
spinning under my bed.
The dusty clatter
of the sunlight.
The window is as hot
as a grub.
I feel good.
When the children come
will play dead
they expect a body
a starched parchment
arranged for inspection.
I will smile.
I am, after all a mystic
they will see I have gone
beyond the beyond.
O fuck
my cock is not dead yet....
Nurse!



(3)


I hear
the far off
calls of a jolly man.
He died last week
they moved him quietly out
of earshot.

I hear
the jaded repartee of
medical persons,
foot sore nurses-
a hum of sexless lust.
Its time for the dinner trolley.
My guts are rumbling like pack ice.
Poor mother
now we have to meet again
and I never liked you.
I wonder if there are angels
that counsel
the disinterested?

I am floating like a turd
in a slipstream of energy.
I am hungry.
I hear
the disorientated murmur of flesh
as it becomes untouchable
an outcast
inking back
into your world.

God, I look so hopeless
and the clock on the wall
has stopped
or have my eyes
at last
ceased dreaming?


















(C) Eric Ashford August 08