Kay Ostman
Jul 23, 2017 · 2 min read

In This Room

In this room

There’s no life at all.

I sit and wait

For my one phone call.

In this room

It’s cold and lonely.

I reflect and ponder

My testimony.

How could I have gotten

Into such a mess?

I was there, but

I was just a witness.

Burned and scared,

I left to seek aid.

Upon my return,

I was betrayed.

Denounced and ridiculed

By those who serve and protect;

I was slammed to the ground

Out of sheer cockiness.

Time crawls by

While my skin dissolves.

A medic appears

And wraps my burn with gauze.

I started this poem in 1982, prior to my jail experience. In 1985, after that unpleasant episode, I revised the poem but never quite finished it. I had put it away all of these years. A few months ago, I began revising it again. There are some missing pieces that I have yet to complete that are important to the story. When I finish the story, I will add it to this post.

The “backstory”:

I was house sitting for a friend at his apartment while he was out of town. I burned myself while cooking a pot of spaghetti. I had second and third degree burns on my thigh requiring a visit to the emergency room. It was a Saturday and my regular doctor’s office was closed. I was unable to find my key to the apartment and asked the management if they could let me in to retrieve my things after I returned from the ER. I didn’t want to leave the door unlocked and I couldn’t concentrate on searching for the key with my injury. I asked a friend who lived close by to drive me to the ER. When I arrived at the ER, I realized I did not have any identification. The triage nurse told me they couldn’t treat me without providing some kind of ID. I returned to the apartment in less than a half hour and the manager refused to talk to me. My friend managed to open the door without the key. I entered the apartment, found my wallet with my ID and, of course, the key. By the time I turned around to leave, I was surrounded by police officers. My friend had apparently left the scene. I was arrested for “criminal trespass.” The charge was reduced to “disorderly conduct” and adjudicated in exchange for my plea of “no contest.”