Butchers and Doctors wear white
Not a coincidence, as an instance
Compressed into one
Short year
A long time came
For firsts
First, the surgeons came
With their sharp degrees
Separation of mind body with a scalpel
Focus
The first born son sacrificed
Before he drive-engine trouble-
Organ (ically) broken down-the gall to take what is not theirs
And call it Care!
And there-
A body splayed out, below the deck
in dirt, porce-lain shards,
grey hair tinged with red-
Wood dust, in the evening wind awaits an ambulance to pick up the pieces
Of her shattered-shot-
From the hip, and arms, appen-
Dages give out
Then man who stepped in
to hold me up began to limp,
holding up by the aide of a cane
sugar-sweetie-honey-pie-my
dear, do not fear the knife, like love, the pain relieves
no-thing, pointedly parts need replacement
screws, pins, rods,
a lit fusing of ore,
medicinal musing on more-phine
saline flushes and demoralizing blush
like blood in cheek
is thicker than water.
A thirsty surgeon, a risen vampire, a hardware engineer,
Condensed in one (anti)body here in one year,
Inoculating with sticks and stones.
Image by Jan Sanders van Hemessen [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
