thoughts from a terrace

   
   
this afternoon      
bored of lying on my bed amidst men      
living in the fear of dying i walked up      
and took the stairs without anyone noticing    
finally reached the terrace and sat down      
as the staff nurses ate their lunch          
sniggers snorts silence slurps      
     
they had something      
or the other to kick around mostly    
their men back home with all their      
peculiarities pride problems      
and so on      
     
a general sense of well being      
was there pretty much unshakeable      
like a blue screen in an in-demand soundstage    
quite something in a place where good men    
died every hour after weeks and months of      
shitting in bowls pissing cussing bedsores    
wanting both to live and die a little bit    
ambiguous bastards clingy whiners 
stinking up the whole joint with      
their general lack of dignity    
and once they were men    
lions who ruled fought    
and won the battle    
darn shame that    

i was stuck there
catching it from them
slow every now and then    
     
with a sigh i looked away    
staring to follow the mechanical millipede of    
cars cabs cyclists castouts all sorts on the road    
once slow once fleeting a constant blur  
i wanted it bad enough to be out there  
near them and far from where i was    
right that moment    
     
a masochistic joker    
having forgotten his safe word      
still thrashing wailing laughing    
welts wounds eyes welling    
hapless helpless happy      
as ever    
     
why the fuck the shortcut      
always is such
a longshot    
really      
   
fuck