Casuality Poem by Alan Gillis

Car like a comet, breaking all the lights, we speed
towards waiting rooms and vending machines.
The anaesthetic takes time to empty your head
so it becomes a stadium and the game postponed.
Through a window, dead white eyes are staring
upon the sterilised floors, as you lift high
into orbits where the stars have ceased to war:
The Lake Isle of Innisfree, The Forest Moon of Endor.
Then the doctor makes her first incision
with an amphetamine glint in her eye.