The Prisoner in Hospital

The prisoner in hospital, chained feet
to hands, eyes of dystopian miseries.
Reads the floor like a Taoist priest
for signs of freedom. The cold concrete

floor gazes back like stern officers' eyes.
He's shuffled (in clinks & clanks) to a room
for tests, crown shaved like a shorn mushroom.
The officers jest like gods in blue disguise.

The prisoner requests (in hushed baritone)
for water. One vested cop brings him a cup,
holds it to his lips like a neutered pup.
Young nurses throng past, avert his testosterone-

charged gaze (he rakes them like a bear denied).
The grail is freedom; hands unbound like the patients.
The prisoner would rather the slow onslaught of ailments
& the post-visit train home with the passive-eyed.