Nurses

Slope-shouldered, bellies before them
the nurses are coming, garrulously,
they are bossing me in and out of clothes
into windowless rooms, tucking me in
Nurses are patting me, frowning,
then they guffaw in another room.
They have flat-footed footsteps
and very short memories.

But I am the woman who won’t take off her bra,
the one who demands that you look her in her eyes.
Miss Shirty, they call me, I know my ow n veins;
when they come back for me, I’ll be gone.