the medallion…poem 5

i remember my first night in Bellevue…screaming down the hall…a madman being taken to the floor by staff…patients looking dazed…as if shot by a tranquilizer gun…my roommate missing an arm and a leg from a suicide attempt…jumped in front of a subway train…he told me in a thick Dominican accent…,Hey man, he said with a smile…,This spring I’m going to try out for the New York Yankees…you think I gotta shot…,he asked with a straight face…,You got just a good a chance as i do…,i told him…,Just as good a chance as i do…

of all the hospitalizations i’ve had…Bellevue was the most unique…some guys were right out of Rikers…most straight off the streets from all over the country…black guys rapping in the hallway to simple rhyming schemes…women looking terrified…abuse victims…violent criminals…people sleep walking through life…guys sitting in chairs drooling on themselves while being instructed to participate in group activities…schizophrenic women who’d been raped by men of evil…not mentally ill…but evil…and everyone…everyone carrying on full conversations with themselves about grandiose visions of life…moms…lovers…smack dealers…car salesmen…dental hygienists…principals with paddles…killing them all…killing them all…I was hospitalized with victims…truly hurting people…the soul can only bare so much…

me…i just wanted a bed to sleep in…just a bed…figured that would rest the demons for a while…but it didn’t…the funny thing about hospitals is when you go in you immediately want to get out…so i begged…pleaded…threw fits…accused staff of holding me hostage…thought doctors were trying to poison me…paced the hallways…and did my damndest to fit in with the rest of the crazies who came to New York for one thing only…the city’s social services…

New York is the Mecca for insanity and homelessness…as soon as you show up you’re given food stamps to the tune of $220 worth…which a lot of guys trade for cash with the Arab store owners…you get medical treatment for whatever ails ya’…but most importantly…if you’re crazy…or just a good liar…you begin the process of getting disability…

remember…God loves a sinner…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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