People whispered my name
behind their hands.
The clock, meanwhile,
would momentarily grow large,
the blue flowers
on the yellow wallpaper
opening just a crack.
*
WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS
Wherever I go,
men are fighting
over women or loot.
The abandoned
write their names
on scraps of paper
and drop them
through the bars
on the windows.
I have the same
sudden feeling
of unease as I had
during previous visits.
The greeter nods
hello and then
resumes applying
her black lipstick. LS