Graveyard Bed and other stuff

I went to the hospital today. Well not because I needed to - my Grandfather was in, poor fella. Anyway, it was an odd experience and I kinda felt as I was leaving that I hated it. I think it is the smell - it is hard for me to describe, but I just really don't like hospitals. Maybe I will write a poem about that.

I didn't post yesterday because I felt like if I did I would have to mention Obama and it felt cliche at that point to do so. But I am glad there is a change, lets hope it is for the better.

John Gallaher had an interesting post on his blog today - a lecture on writing and a writing exercise. I didn't think it was awesome, but it was an ok read. Check it out HERE

I am missing LOST this evening. Which is killing me that I can't see it right now. I just got back from visiting my Grandpa late and I didn't want to jump into it in the middle. So I will probably take the time to watch it tomorrow and I will most likely comment on it tomorrow as well.

And here is a poem I wrote this morning while eating breakfast. I had started thinking about this one as I was falling asleep last night (which is really dangerous because I usually forget what I was writing in my head)(I should keep a pad by my bed) and miraculously I remembered what I wanted to say this morning.

Graveyard Bed

There is a graveyard
in my bed.
Complete with two bodies.
Husband and Wife,
Side by side.
Tucked into
the blanket brown earth.
No headstones.
only heads
sawing off
open and rotten.
A willow hangs
over the communal
grave.
Gently caressing
the backs
of the face
down carcasses
with it's tender touch.