Poet, Writer, Linguist, Photographer and Educator, Aprilia Zank at play

Malajusted

I had put on
my reddest dress
to spread brightness
on my arrival
but these women were rabid
had crawled to the drug locker
with their pee bags
trailing behind
and their white gowns
open at the back
for ease of examination
I tried to stop them
screamed for the nurse
but they were already
devouring
the coloured pills
and celebrating
their ephemeral victory
over doomed
maladjustment

untitled

this is an ugly poem
this is a wicked poem

this is a poem
about corpses lined up
in antiseptic bags
in the basement

this is a poem
about weary customers
drawing numbers
for refundable purgatories
on the ground-floor

this is a poem
about a young girl
on the third floor
pulling tight
at the pink of her hoodie
to conceal
the baldness of her head

this is a poem
about…