Visiting Time Poem by Pamela Ann Frances Crane

I wandered, lonely as a cloud
Of smoke outside a cancer ward
Where cigarettes are not allowed,
And wondered where the drugs were stored.
Inside that safe? Behind this door?
I’d never cased the joint before.

I sauntered through the coffee shop,
Down disinfected corridors,
On past the sluices, man with mop
(I wonder if he ever scores)
Averted gaze from turning heads
In rows of most un-private beds.

At last I found the pharmacy.
“Hallo my love! ” the lady smiled.
“Who is it that you’ve come to see?
Your Mum? Your Dad? Another child? ”
Behind her, stacked on every shelf
The stash I needed for myself -

Barbiturates, and methadone,
And other stuff that I could sell.
(I couldn’t pull this job alone;
I’d have to bring a mate as well.)
I would impress her. I’m no fool!
“I’m learning medicine at school.

I’ve done the body, done the brain;
I’ve started on prescribing now.
I really need your help to train -
Miss said the doctors would allow
Me in your store to make a list
So I can be a specialist.”

I don’t know why she rang the bell
Or why the docs and coppers came.
My spiel was going really well
Until she asked me for my name.
At dawn they raided my old crowd...
I wander lonely in my cloud.