I stand
in line
for the
fruit punch
boxed juice
and straws
to pierce the
plastic
clutching three
new ‘scripts
can’t remember
whether it’s
red pill
or blue wire
they only
serve tea
twice a
day to
keep our
caffeine intake
in check
I like
sitting
on the window
ledge of the
conference rooms
I go to
to take my
calls in in the
evening
one night
I wandered the hall
at 2am
sat in
the TV room
to watch the snow
that’s when
I met Maria
“I need to
put on my
moisturizer” and she
took out
one of
those Becel
margarine cups
they bring
with break-
fast and
rubbed it
into her pores
Maria said
she was going
back to Tehran
to kill
the man
who killed
her father and when I
left she
waved goodbye
and yelled
through the self-
locking
doors
and she
told me
she loves me
she called
Vlad
Michelangelo
because of
the angles
of his cheekbones
Vlad gave me
a shirt
with holes
I think
because I only
wore
the hospital
gowns
and Maria
gave me
a dead
pen the ink
already crisp
as the November
air when
I smoked
my first
dart
in ten
days.
Simon Turner’s poetry has most recently been published by Sumac Literary Magazine, The Fiddlehead, and flo. Simon is a disabled student in the English PhD program at Carleton, lives with a potato of a cat, and has had four plays staged in Peterborough/Nogojiwanong, either at or in collaboration with The Theatre On King.
