Christus Santa Rosa
hospital escaping
the plip plop drip drop
of unfamiliar darkness
and antidote or poison

when it's too late
or early to really notice
you are smoking
in a no parking zone,
foggy streetlight even here.

And Don Juan is
bopping along to his iPod,
forgetting the body bag
is almost clear.

He thinks I'm staring at him
so grins an invitation
without noticing
the naked body glaring
without a sheet.

He shrugs and goes on
wheeling right through
the empty main lobby
past her roses
and Jesus so beautiful

in plaster.