Apparently in Bury St Edmunds they switched the Christmas lights on in September.

In the doctor's waiting room I am hunched
but not nervous. I know it is just routine.
My butterflies are because I am thinking of one day
being asked to remove my boxer shorts
of waiting for test results
and hoping to be told it's just glandular.

It's the other patients I feel bad for.
The lady who sat next to me with Woman's Weekly
not digesting a word.
When her name was called she looked like she would vomit
like she would disintegrate into the carpet.

The receptionist is my age
we are the youngest here by far
her laughter on the phone is as uncomfortable
as anti semitism.

The lady comes out again
carrying her coat in her hand.
She takes a lollipop from the bowl
unwraps it and as she books her next appointment says
"Apparently in Bury St Edmunds
they switched the Christmas lights on in September."

She makes the appointment for January
she is thinking of Christmas again.