At the Ear Nose and Throat Hospital

I was in the darkened booth, grey pavlovian rat.
I pressed the required button, ear mufflers inverting
my fear. Then spin - screech chair rocks. This astronaut
contraption flying me to planets petrified.

Red light winks surly my eye blinks as I try to count
backwards breathing black oxygen intermittently
The old woman knitting by the machine initially lulled me,
but her pace and her blood has quickened.

I forget where I am, though I know it is some
mad - mice mausoleum.

It’s over, the technician said. I’m finished - I gagged.

Not a question.