When Your Hospital Wants You To Call

It’s scary stuff when your hospital feels the need to mail you

a formal envelope

your first question is: am I dying?

Your next is: how do I feel right now? I have a sore throat; I must be dying

says the hypochondriac

and the idiot

and in my case both

and in your case

your writer

and your reader


now knows

the words within the formal envelope

spell out sentences asking me to make a checkup because it’s been

so long since I’ve had a doctor’s hand

up my ass

so now I know

I’m fine

but either way one day

but that’s OK

because I scheduled my death some time between now and infinity.


2 thoughts on “When Your Hospital Wants You To Call

    1. cottonbombs Post author

      I live like I’m immortal so life and death are constellation prizes. (And had I meant consolation prizes I would have written consolation prizes. I mean constellation prizes: we’re prizes from the combustion of stars.)


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