Assessment in Cold Blood (Poetry)

Not a meeting more
like an interrogation — hostile
to the possibilty of sympathy —
the boxes square and empty —
demanding the acknowledgement of
a black condemnatory tick —
there is a need — a set requirement
of the indifferent pulseless paper
for the potential patient to fit
somewhere in amongst the blind statistics —
account neatly for every schism break or split.

Dealing with the demons
minutes fracture into fear the system will
translate the truth to something less —
dilute perception and intimidate
the vulnerable spirit
so trust — respect — and even reason
fragments in such cold temperatures
all the careful pieces saved so long
given up and lost to inevitability.

Defeated — Hope walks away — retreats
dragging a dead friend who we will bury —
more or less kindly — in the afternoon
while talking out our private grief
and vow to keep a wiser counsel —
chiefly for ourselves.