Raw Vision

There’s too much. I can’t read through them all.
The deadline’s been brought forward! What?
Hunk alert! Go psycho. That’s ok. They’re just cards.
I’ll start with John and Yoko. Oh, but there’s
Roy Rogers and Trigger. Old childhood friends.
No, no, they’ll slow me down. Poetry. Now
that’s caught my eye! How much time is left?

Do I have to pay for them? I haven’t got
any money with me, have I? Ah, my wallet.
Get it out. Empty it. Now there are coins
all over the floor. Not enough. Find some more
from somewhere. Trump! He’s got plenty.
I can use my credit card. Shit! Shit! Shit! It won’t fit
in the machine. It’s bending. Is it made of rubber?

Where are the toilets? Down that corridor?
Right or left? Here they are. The stench!
There are no doors on the cubicles. Everyone will see.
Someone’s filming me! Bastard! ‘Turn that camera off!’ 
Here’s a door. Kick it open. Foul!  Brown stuff
smeared all over the walls. I feel the panic rising.
It’s in my throat. I’m going to be sick. Look out!

Please Wake Me Up