Confirmation Poem by Lee Wilkinson

I sit among the flick
flack of the magazine
mortuary beside a plaster
cast with a sneezing spray across
the room and a hamburger
on legs looking for
colonic cancer in the corner who is next
to the myopic wretch with the smoker's face
who has his nose curled inside
the racing guide ignoring the two
children playing with plastic and
the patience of their
mother. In walks a nurse not
looking, she focuses inward for fear of being
stopped holds a card and trails
efficiency behind her like a child's
cart. I see a door open and catch a glimpse
of you sitting bent forward talking to grey
hair and a stethoscope before it closes
again to leave me chewing my heart and
thinking of a purple test strip.
But then you come and take my hand
and once we are past the glass
doors and into the car park you
can no longer dam your bubbling
smile and I smile back and
laugh and feel dizzy and sick and
out of breathe and teary all at the same
time because now
I Know.