Hell’s Angels
A nurse shows me photos of a biker party.
Her boyfriend stands with others, part-clad
in leathers, cocks dangling in pints of
lager.
Other nurses begin circling, moving in.
They cluster on my bed, hyena cackles
attracting more. Their pink claws snatch
at the photos; they salivate, white teeth
snapping.
The Great Suit stalks through the ward
followed
by whirling white coats.
Holiday
snaps?
– it’s bored, rhetorical.
The hyenas collapse laughing. One rolls onto
my cotton savannah
and clutches her sides.
Another slides, hysterical,
to the blood-spotted floor.
You can purchase a copy by emailing the publisher at leona at mulfran dot co dot uk with a shipping address, and she will send the book with an invoice for £9 (thus no charge for shipping).
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