The doors swing
both ways; be careful.
From either side,
the other looks like out.
This mystery your body
is like a Klein bottle,
all surface, no way in.
From the inevitably
flawed models, it appears
to intersect itself:
it dwells within the without.
That’s why the wind —
or is it breath? — can’t
be held, & you need
a fourth dimension
to lose those edges
to become whole.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- Poem for Display in a City Bus
- Poem for Display in a Subway Car
- Poem for Display at a City Reservoir
- Poem for Display in a Veterans’ Memorial Park
- Poem for Display in a Public Library
- Poem for Display in a Hospital Waiting Room
- Poem for Display in a Municipal Building
- Poem for Display in an Abandoned Factory
- Poem for Display in an Inaccessible Location
- Poem for Display at a Police Checkpoint
- Poem for Display Above the Urinals in a Men’s Restroom
- Poem for Display in a Vacant Lot
- Poem for Display in a Shopping Mall Food Court
- Poem for Display in a Housing Project
6 Replies to “Poem for Display in a Hospital Waiting Room”
I liked this one very much, and I didn’t even have to go infinitely loopy trying to figure out the insides and outside of a Klein bottle. :)
Gorgeous, Dave. Those first lines are breathtaking because they’re so simple but they pack such a wallop.
I haven’t warmed to this series the way I did the “tool” series, but this poem is a real beauty.
Joan – Yes, it is a mental workout, isn’t it?
Rachel and sarah b – I’m surprised to hear you liked this one, actually. It’s my least favorite of the series so far!
I guess it reminds me of the day, many years ago, when I was leaving the hospital with my brand new daughter, and a very very old person passed me in her hospital robe, and we exchanged a look that said it all.
That right there would make a far better poem that my arid metaphysical exercise.