A Short Play Not Set in Kansas City

[beaufort]

(scene i)
I wish father would have died
in Kansas City, rather than Wisconsin,
that way, I wouldn’t have had to listen
to the ticking of the wall clock
as he ripped the IV out of his arm,
screaming at me to get the hell out
of his room, spraying his blood
over the starched sheets like abstract art

(scene ii)
When he finally fell asleep,
I pulled out his father’s picture
and looked hard into grandpa’s blue
eyes; must have been a reason why
father never seemed to smile

(scene iii)
It’s a hospital, I kept telling myself;
sirens never cease and hours
were strewn about like unbundled sticks,
none of which I could use

(scene iv)
I could have reached through the silver
bed bars and straightened his sagging head;
an autograph was out of the question

[/b]scene V)
Bill, the mortician, visited three times
since father was hospitalized;
he was the same guy who picked
up mother back in 1999; if I would have
been in Kansas City, I wouldn’t have cared
who showed up. I enjoyed the decreasing number of lines in each stanza as your father's death neared - kind of a premonition. This scene of seven lines threw that off for me, though I don't know if the stanza (scene) length had been intentional on your part. nI do like the reference to the mortician being familiar, though, sets the stage for a doubly - difficult situation.

Anyway, it was his turn; time for me
to step aside

enjoyed this, as I have each of your entries here. In scene 4 the "could have" in straightening your father's head implies to me that you did not - is that what you wanted? Thanks for the read.