Unscheduled Bleed

The line moved slow, a sluggish snake,

my patience worn, my head did ache.

Then sudden warmth, a salty drip,

a crimson run from upper lip.

A public gush, a silent shame,

no urgent call, no urgent name.

Just blood, so thick, a shocking stain,

on my pale shirt, despite the rain

of hurried wipes, the paper thin,

from where the body spilled within.

It hit the floor, a dark new pool,

a little puddle, kind of cruel,

against the linoleum's bland gleam,

a sudden, rude, and waking dream.

The clerk just stared, a blank soft gaze,

through my red-smeared, public haze.