REHAB


Manny glares upward into the eyes of the psychiatrist.

Dr. Rosen looks down,

Manny spins his wheelchair

toward the blank wall.



There won't be another chance.

This is the last.

Your cyclic returns from the same crowd,

same drugs. Despair is a statement.

Leave now

and there won't be another chance.



A silver chain lay twisted

around Manny's sweaty neck.

Jesus' tormented body stretched

on the cross that rests

on his chest.



Is God a mirage we crawl

through burning desert toward?

Is the answer above us,

below, or within?



The sides of Mannys greased black hair

sweeps back, blending with it's length.

A bold mustache quivers

machisimo emanates from his legless upper body

tense, full of fight.

Damn those betraying stumps.

Damn the doctor.

Damn life.



Manny clenches his fists.

Raw guteral screams

pierce the air like hellish flames.

Sobs bellow filling the room

and down the halls

echoing again and again.