Room Poem by bob barci

Here we are, you and me,
caged in this room for purposes uncontrolled.
Allowed to move, we tour the floor –
boring and going crazy.
Pipes that clank at night, only in this room.
Flooded bathroom, waiting to be fixed.
Lots of cards and flowers – but not for me.
Friendly nurses make my day,
and a roommate I listen to stay awake all night.
Clowning to build up spirits
interrupted every half hour for pressure and temperature.
Short visits from few people,
with lots of time in between to doze off.
I had planned to write quite a bit,
but never got into the mood.
Pot luck food that gets half eaten
with laxatives disguised as orange juice.
Warm sun flowing in making it somewhat hot.
Phone calls to friends just to hear their voices.
When I get released from this room,
I'll probably talk about it for some time.



dedicated to Bob Mulvaney